Black Hole
by afanfromSicily
Summary: Something goes wrong and everything changes. Jack will have to face an uphill battle and things will go worse before getting better. J/S - B/T - M/L - D/D pairings but very little romance.
1. Chapter 1

_Hi! I'm back with a new story. This one is long and, as always, Jack-centric. I apologize beforehand for any spelling or grammar or ... well, for any mistakes. English is not my first language and spell check can do only so much.  
_

_**LITTLE WARNING**__:  
- this story is dramatic, sometimes extremely so. I'll put warnings before the more dark chapters. Remember that's rated __**M**__;  
- there's little romance. It's more about friendship and, basically, it has been more a cathartic experience than a literary effort for me._

_A prayer: I'll try to reply to every one of your comments but I need to be able to do it so I ask you kindly to register to the site so that I can answer you directly. If you decide not to register then, please, do not take it personally if I won't answer you. Thanks._

_I hope you'll like this story.  
Ornella_

SEATBELT WARNING _(no, it's not the title of the chapter)_

* * *

"They're coming your way." A voice announced through the earpieces.

"Thanks, Tara. Is everyone in position?" A series of affirmative answers reached his ears. Jack turned his gaze to the man sitting beside him "Are you ready?" He asked.

"As always." Bobby answered with a grin.

Jack grinned back but he could see through Bobby's attitude and sense his tension. He was tensed, too. They had been undercover for two months already and today was a special day because they would meet for the very first time their boss, Fred Johnston.  
This meeting, though awaited, had been unexpected. Johnston was known for being very careful. Usually, his businesses and his men were managed by his deputies and only these ones knew his face. But apparently he wanted to meet "two of his best men" and compliment them personally on their latest "brilliant" exploit. Thanks to Bobby's knowledge of explosives and Jack's skills as a sniper, the two agents had eliminated a rival criminal group. Obviously the FBI had already taken care of that group and the whole operation had been a set-up, but a very spectacular and, apparently, very effective set-up.  
So this meeting was actually good news for them. It meant that they were significantly closer to nail Johnston and his men for drugs dealing and the killing of seven people, three of which were FBI agents.  
But Jack knew the true reason for the tension that was enveloping him and Bobby. They were going to that meeting clean and without the protection of the Kevlar vest. Obviously their backs were covered by their colleagues and two SWAT teams and he had the utmost faith in Sue and the rest of his team but still… he had a bad feeling about this meeting.

"They're pulling in the parking lot." Tara announced.

"Ok. From this moment on you're alone, guys." D said, looking at the monitors that filled the van where he was with Tara and Sue.

Jack and Bobby removed their earpieces and exited the car where they're waiting.  
Through the monitors, Sue saw them near the two cars full of criminals and raise their hands to be searched.

"I don't know how they do it." She commented.

"What?" Tara asked, turning her head towards her colleague but keeping her eyes fixed on the monitors.

"How can they be so calm? I'm a bundle of nerves and I'm sitting in this van with two armed FBI agents!" There was admiration in Sue's voice but also a note of apprehension.

"They're nervous, too. But they know that they have to appear calm and collected. Their lives depend on it."

"Well, one thing is sure."

"What?"

"If ever they would tire of being FBI agents, they have a future as actors." Sue joked.

D and Tara chuckled but moments later D turned serious.

"Someone's getting out the car on the left." D announced to his colleagues.

Jack and Bobby let the four criminals before them search them and take their guns.  
A couple of minutes later they saw a man getting out one of the cars and look cautiously around. The men fell silent and Bobby and Jack exchanged a brief look. It had to be Johnston. The man didn't approach them and stayed near the car forcing the two agents to go to him.

"Jack and Bobby, right?" The man asked, shaking their hands. The two men nodded. "George here talked a lot about you two. He says you're his best men."

Jack and Bobby shrugged self-consciously, shifting slightly to force Johnston to change his position. He was in the shadows and Sue would have had a hard time trying to read his lips. But to no avail. He stayed in the shadows, glancing briefly around him.

"I liked how you took care of the Dominguez family. Great job." He praised, squaring the two agents from head to toe.

Jack was studying him, too. He seemed nervous and … excited. A weird and absolutely not good combination. Jack saw him move his head. Was it a nod? Jack turned his gaze towards Bobby and met his puzzled and worried stare.

"You've been brilliant, really. Probably even now you're thinking you're more brilliant, more intelligent than me. But no one has ever fooled me and one thing is sure. Neither the FBI nor you two, agents Hudson and Manning, will fool me!" Johnston said, his eyes flashing with unconcealed anger. He took a step back and Jack stiffened. The agent put his hands behind his back and signed "**HELP**" just before he saw the weapon.

"They need help!" Sue screamed, seeing Jack form the word behind his back. But at that moment someone started firing.

Bobby saw Johnston take a step back and tensed. He didn't have the time to question that move though because he heard someone start firing and was roughly pushed over by Jack with such a strength that he hit the head on the tarmac and lost consciousness.

Moments later, the SWAT teams were on the scene and took control of the situation, even though one of the two cars had managed to slip through their fingers. Johnston, however, had already been subdued and handcuffed and was now lying on the ground with his face pressed on the tarmac by a zealous young agent.

Followed by Sue, Tara and Myles, D approached his two team-mates but froze when he saw them. He heard the gasps of his colleagues behind his back but couldn't move. A groan coming from Bobby brought him back to reality and he knelt beside them.

"We need the paramedics! Now! We have two agents down!" He shouted to no one in particular but saw one of the SWAT agents take the phone and dial the 911. Satisfied, he returned his attention to his colleagues. "Myles, help me."


	2. Chapter 2

_Thank you for reading. Since the story is finished I've taken a decision: the posts, RL permitting, will come every other day. The story will keep you entertained long enough anyway. Reviews are welcomed.  
_

_

* * *

_

Bobby regained consciousness and groaned at the pain in his left shoulder and at the throb in his head. He opened his eyes and saw D beside him and Sue kneeled in front of him.

"Hey, Jack. You should reduce your daily donuts fix, mate." He commented with a weak smile, feeling the weight of Jack's body on his. "I'm fine, mate. But if you could shift a little I'd feel a lot better." He added when the weight didn't lift. Then he became aware of Sue's tears and Tara's sobs and his face sobered.  
The weight lifted from his body and he gingerly sat up, glancing around him. His eyes met the bloodied front of D's shirt then Jack's body. He had his eyes closed and seemed covered in blood.

Bobby watched in a daze Myles take his Armani jacket off and try to stop the bleeding from Jack's neck while D's jacket was pressed on Jack's abdomen. Two little hands took on of Bobby's big ones and squeezed it gently. He knew it was Sue trying to comfort him but he couldn't move, he couldn't turn his eyes from the still body of his best friend.

D turned towards Bobby, still keeping pressure on Jack's wounds.

"Are you ok, Bobby?" He asked, seeing the blood on his clothes.

Bobby didn't answer but kept his eyes trained on Jack. Sue took Bobby's face gently between her hands and forced him to turn his attention to her.

"Are you ok, Bobby? Are you hurt?" She asked with a worried expression on her pale face.

Bobby blinked a couple of times then nodded slowly.

"They hit me in the shoulder" He answered. "But I'm fine, really." He hastened to reassure her.

" Let me see." She ordered in a no-nonsense voice. "It seems just a flesh wound." She communicated to the other anxious agents with a sigh of relief. "Are you hurt elsewhere?" She asked, applying pressure on the wound with her scarf.  
Then she spotted some blood on his head. "Have you hit your head?" She pressed.

Bobby nodded and winced. His head was throbbing like crazy but he was too worried for his friend to care.

"Is he?" He couldn't ask, he didn't have the strength.

"He's breathing and he has a pulse but I don't know how much he can hold out. He's loosing a lot of blood and I think they hit a lung." Myles answered, hearing Jack's shallow breathing.

"He's still unconscious." D added, praying that the paramedics would arrive soon. Jack was quickly fading away.

Just then they heard the piercing and welcomed sound of the sirens of a couple of ambulances.

The paramedics approached them quickly and began to work on Jack.  
Bobby felt comforted by their presence. Their quick but sure gestures talked of professionalism and he knew Jack was in good hands. Reluctantly, he let one of the paramedics check him over but refused to be taken on the ambulance before Jack.

"You could have a concussion, sir." Insisted the paramedic.

"I'm not moving." Bobby repeated in a firm voice, his eyes fixed on the paramedics working on Jack.

"Is he in immediate danger?" D intervened.

"No, I don't think so but…"

"Then let him stay. I take on the responsibility." D ordered.

Just then Jack's heart stopped and the team waited with bated breath to hear again the steady bip on the portable defibrillator. Bobby found himself unable to keep his eyes off Jack's body, flinching with each shock his best mate received.

"Come on, Sparky!" Mumbled Myles.

A couple of attempts later Jack's heart started beating again and two paramedics took him on the first ambulance while the other two took Bobby on the second one.

"Tara, you go with Bobby while Sue will go with Jack. We have to settle a couple of things here then we'll join you at the hospital." D ordered. "Myles, call Lucy and tell her to meet us at the…"

"George Washington." One of the paramedics supplied.

D nodded his thanks and Myles started dialling their office while the ambulances disappeared behind the corner of the parking lot.


	3. Chapter 3

In the ambulance, Bobby felt Tara squeezing his hand and smiled weakly. He honestly didn't know who was comforting whom but it felt good. And he needed, oh she couldn't even imagine how much, her quiet support because even if his thoughts were all jumbled at that moment, there was one thing sure and clear in his mind: Jack had saved his life and maybe would lose his own for this. Bobby squeezed back Tara's hand and bit back the tears that were threatening to fall.

In the other ambulance, Sue was trying to be strong, not to break down… but the grim expression on the face of the paramedic wasn't helping very much.

" What are his conditions?" Sue asked, hoping that her voice didn't sound as desperate as she was feeling.

The answer came after some seconds.

" It doesn't look good, ma'am."

Sue closed her eyes to prevent the tears from spilling out and took a deep steadying breath. Suddenly her eyes flew open and rested on Jacks face.

" I think he squeezed my hand." She told the paramedic, her eyes alight with renewed hope.

Just then Jack's eyes opened slowly and met Sue's worried face. Jack smiled weakly and Sue's heart started beating faster.

" Jack! Hold on! We're arriving at the hospital." Sue knew that her voice was probably high-pitched but she didn't care. Jack was awake. It was a good sign, wasn't it?

" Sue" Jack mumbled.

" I can't read you, Jack." She said, touching lightly his face. "Can he take the mask off? I'm deaf and I need to read his lips." She said, her eyes pleading with the paramedic.

The young man shook his head and Sue slowly lowered her eyes to Jack's face. He had his eyes closed but re-opened them some moments later.

" **B** - **O** -** B** - **B** - **Y**?" He signed slowly with a questioning expression on his face and then closed his eyes as if that simple task had cost him all his energy. Once again he re-opened them some moments later.

Sue smiled, hastening to wipe a tear that had passed through her defences.  
" He's ok. He has already driven the paramedics crazy."

Jack smiled weakly but his smile faded some moments later while his eyes closed. And stayed closed.

" Jack!" Sue shouted when she felt him loosening his grip on her hand.

" His heart stopped again." The paramedic informed her when she looked up.

She watched the paramedic work on Jack and resisted the urge to hug and kiss the man when he turned with a smile saying that he had brought Jack back.

Finally, the two ambulances stopped in front of the hospital.


	4. Chapter 4

Jack and Bobby were brought to two different rooms and Sue and Tara found themselves suddenly alone in the noisy and indifferent corridor of the hospital. Having lost their anchors, they hugged and sat together praying that their friends would be fine soon.

Five minutes later Lucy joined them and, after having hugged them, she asked what had happened. Myles had been vague on the phone. By the time they had told her everything they knew, a doctor approached them.

"Are you here for agent Manning?" He asked. The three women nodded simultaneously.

"How is he?" Tara asked.

"His injuries aren't serious. He suffered from a very mild concussion but if he takes it easy he'll be up and well in a couple of days."

The three women let out a long, deep breath of relief. Bobby was fine. He was ok. But…

"Do you know anything about the other FBI agent who has been brought here?" Sue asked, her face grave again.

"No, I don't know anything. But if you tell me his name I'll try to find some information." The man offered.

"His name is Jack Hudson. He has been brought in that room over there." Sue said, smiling gratefully at the man.

"Perfect. Ah! There's a miss Thomas here?"

"I am Sue Thomas." Sue answered, puzzled.

"Agent Manning wanted to see you."

"Can we all go?" Tara asked, fervently hoping in an affirmative answer.

"Yes, but I don't know if he'll be still awake. I prescribed him a mild sedative. He was a little agitated." The man smiled sympathetically and then went away.

"Thank you!" Sue hollered to his back.

The man waved and disappeared in the room where Jack was.

The three women entered quietly the room. At the sound of the door opening Bobby's eyes flew open.

"How do you feel?" Tara asked immediately, approaching quickly the Australian and taking one of his hands between hers.

"Been better. How's Jack" He asked back.

"We don't know." Lucy answered.

"Has he been unconscious the whole time?" He asked Sue.

She shook her head and swallowed the lump that had suddenly formed in her throat.

"No. He awoke in the ambulance." She took a steadying pause, observing attentively Bobby. "He asked about you and then passed out again."

Bobby closed his eyes. This was much more than his guilt-stricken heart could take at that moment. Luckily, the sedative had already started to kick in and some moments later he welcomed the unconsciousness.

"We're bringing him to the third floor. If you follow me I'll show you his room." The nurse said. "He'll be asleep for a couple of hours, though."

"No. We stay. We have another friend here." Lucy answered for all of them.

"When you'll be ready you can ask for me and I'll bring you to this young man. I'm Faith and I'll be here till eight am."

The three women settled themselves in the waiting room.

Some minutes later, the doctor who had helped Bobby exited the room where Jack had been brought and approached them slowly. He opened the mouth to talk but closed it again when noticed two distinguished but dishevelled men in bloodied clothes running towards them. The girls quickly updated D and Myles on Bobby's conditions then returned their attention to the doctor.

"Your friend is in critical conditions. He has lost a lot of blood. He has been hit by four bullets. One hit him in the neck and three in the back but he's stable now. They're bringing him in surgery to remove the bullets and repair the damage. A nurse will show you the way." The man explained, observing the people before him. They were clearly shocked and speechless and seemed utterly desperate. They didn't seem FBI agents. They had the same pained expression he had seen too many times in the faces of the families who were losing the ones they held dear. "I'm sorry." He mumbled before turning and going away. Sometimes he really hated his job.

A couple of minutes later a nurse joined them and led the quiet group to the elevators.

Bobby found them in the waiting area three hours later. His wheelchair pushed by a smiling and quite pleased nurse, Bobby entered the room quietly. Everyone was absorbed in his own thoughts and didn't notice his arrival. Everyone except for Levi who trotted happily towards the Australian to welcome him, receiving a generous rub in return.  
Levi's actions drew the attention of the whole group who turned towards him.

"Any news?" He asked, dismissing the nurse with a pale imitation of his winning smile.

"Nothing, yet." Tara answered, getting up and giving him a gentle hug.

"How are you feeling?" Sue asked, after that everyone had welcomed him warmly.

"I'm fine. They have amazing drugs in this place."

His friends smiled but soon returned to their previous positions and resumed their wait.

Three hours and a half later D's phone started ringing, startling the whole group.  
_  
"No… Nothing yet, sir… I will, sir… Good night."_

D sighed and rubbed his face tiredly.

"That was Garrett." He announced to the questioning faces before him.

Ten minutes later a doctor entered the room, his face tired.

"Are you here for Mr. Hudson?" He asked.

"Agent Hudson and yes." Myles answered, showing his badge.

"Your colleague has been hit by four bullets. One hit him in the neck but passed through without too much damage. Another one entered from his back and exited from his abdomen without damaging any vital organ. The third one entered from the back and pierced a lung causing a haemopneumothorax, that is a condition in which the lung collapses because the thoracic cavity is filled with air and blood. We extracted the bullet and repaired the damage. Your colleague will need to stay intubated at least until tomorrow to give the lung the chance to heal. The last bullet gave us some problems because it was lodged near his spine. We've been able to remove it but I'm afraid that it damaged the nerves around the column."

"Does this mean that he's paralyzed?" Myles asked after a moment of stunned silence.

"I don't know. We'll know more after agent Hudson wakes up. I just wanted you to be prepared."

"Is he going to be fine?" Sue asked, trying to focus on what was truly important at that moment. Jack was alive. They hadn't lost Jack. She had not lost Jack.

"He's not out of the woods, yet but I'm quite optimistic." The doctor answered with a kind smile. "He's tough."

"Yes, he is." Sue confirmed with a wobbly smile.

"Can we see him?" Tara asked, glancing worriedly at Bobby's pale face.

"Not right now but you should be able to visit him in an hour or so. He'll probably be asleep, though. I'll tell a nurse to bring you to him when he'll be in his room." The man answered and then bad farewell to the team and went away.

The six people in the room stayed still and quiet for a long time, trying to accept and metabolize what they had just heard.

"Has…" The sound was strangled and D cleared his throat. "Has someone called his family?"

"I tried but no one answered at home." Myles answered.

"I tried, too. Same result. Same thing with Amy." Lucy added.

"Try again. And if no one answers then try the hospital." Bobby said in a whisper.

"Why the hospital?" D asked.

"Mrs. Hudson is ill. She has been spending the last few months more in hospital than in her own house."

"He didn't tell me anything about it." Sue murmured, a hurt expression on her face.

"He didn't tell anything to anyone, Sue. I found out about it by chance a couple of days ago. I heard him talk to his father on the phone and then Jack told me that is mother was dying from cancer."

"I'll try the hospital." Myles proposed, clearing his throat.

"And I'll try again to contact Amy." Lucy added, following Myles out of the waiting room.

Sue sat heavily on one of the chairs and closed her eyes, praying for the irritating man she loved and for his mother.

"Are you ok?" Tara asked Bobby.

The Australian saw the concern and the sympathy in the kind eyes of his friend and a lump formed in his throat. He wanted so desperately to be comforted by those petite but steady arms but… He swallowed the lump and cleared his throat.

"Yeah, I'm fine luv. I guess I'm just a little tired." He answered.

She nodded with a soft smile and squeezed his hand then went to sit beside Sue.

* * *

A/N: Reviews are welcome. _*hint hint nudge nudge*_


	5. Chapter 5

Sue pushed Bobby's wheelchair quietly in the room, their friends waiting their turn outside.  
The first things they noticed were the monitors and the machinery surrounding Jack's bed. Their steady bips and regular graphics comforted the two friends who made a couple more of steps forward.  
Then, they noticed the dressings on Jack's neck and chest and the tubes violating his mouth and his body. And their hearts sank. The doctor first and then the nurse had advised them of Jack's conditions and aspect but now, for the first time, everything seemed dramatically real.  
They closed the distance between them and the bed and observed Jack's face. He was pale, almost grey, and the sunken cheeks and the dark shadows under his eyes made him seem older. Gone were the boyish grin and the flirtatious wink, dulled his handsome features, closed his warm brown eyes. His face appeared eerily motionless, unusually expressionless. The odd contractions were the only signs of the life struggling inside him.

"We've come so close to lose him." Bobby murmured.

Sue nodded slowly and tried to keep at bay the tears that were threatening to fall. But one escaped. Then another one. Soon, Sue found herself unable to stop the tears and the sobs and gave up her attempt to appear strong and collected.

Bobby saw Sue break down before his eyes and gingerly got up from his wheelchair. A knife-like pain shot through his head and the room started spinning a little but he leaned lightly on Jack's bed and enveloped Sue in a tight hug, his quiet sobs unnoticed among the steady bip of the heart monitor and the rhythmic hiss of the ventilator.

After that all of Jack's team-mates had visited him they gathered in the waiting room. D was the first one to break the heavy silence.

"We should go home. We can't do anything here and we need to rest. Tomorrow it'll be a long day." He said.

"I'll stay with Jack." Both Bobby and Sue offered at the same moment.

Having lost Bobby's words, Sue didn't understand the slightly amused expressions on her friends' faces. Once they had explained her what had happened, Sue turned her attention to the Australian.

"I know you want to stay with him but you're injured and you have to take care of yourself. Jack won't be happy if he knows that I let you neglect your health." Sue reasoned.

"But I'm fine." Bobby protested stubbornly.

"No. You're not fine. I've seen you staggering in Jack's room. You won't be any good to him if you're not in good form. He'll need you in the next days but not right now. Now he needs a babysitter who will probably just watch him sleep through the night." Sue insisted in a kind voice.

"Bobby, she's right. You need to rest and tomorrow you'll be free to do whatever you want." Tara added.

Bobby turned his attention to his male colleagues, appealing to them with pleading eyes. But D and Myles shook their heads and shrugged.

"Besides, I'm sure Jack will be a lot happier to find Sue's face before his eyes than yours when he wakes up, koala boy." Myles interjected.

"You have a point there, mate." Bobby conceded with a smile and a wink towards a softly blushing Sue. "Ok. You win. But tomorrow I'll be here just one second after having been discharged."

"**D – E – A – L** " Sue signed.

"Are you sure you don't want any company?" Lucy asked while the others were escorting Bobby back to his room.

"Yes, Luce. I'm sure. I'll be fine." Sue answered.

"We could take shifts so that you can rest, too."

"I couldn't sleep anyway. No, Luce. Thank you but I'll stay here. Could you take Levi with you, though? He's been good because he's worried too for Jack but I'm sure he could do with a walk and some food." Sue said, glancing affectionately at her faithful companion and handing the leash to her room-mate.

"Sure. But if you need something, anything, just call me and I'll be here in a jiffy."

"I know, Luce." Sue reassured her with a warm smile and a grateful expression on her tired face.

The two friends hugged then Lucy walked away with a subdued Levi at her side. Sue stayed in the corridor until the two figures disappeared from her view then she took a deep breath and entered Jack's room.

D entered his house and went to his children's bedroom. He went quietly in and gave a feather"like kiss on each forefront, arranging with light gestures the covers over the still bodies. Satisfied, he exited the room but stayed on the threshold for some moments just watching his children sleep.

Then, he went to his bedroom. Donna was already sleeping. He took quickly his clothes off and slid under the blanket, his chest pressed against her back and his left arm resting on her abdomen.

Donna awoke at the feeling of her husband's body spooned against hers but stayed still. She knew that the operation had not gone well, D had phoned her hours earlier, but she also knew that D would have awaken her if he had been ready to open up. So, when she felt hot tears wet her neck and shoulders where D's face was buried, she turned around and hugged tightly her husband, thanking God that he was back home with her for another night.

Myles had accompanied Tara and Lucy to the rotor's apartment. Neither one of the two women wanted to stay alone that night so Lucy had offered Sue's room to her friend who had readily accepted.  
Myles had kept them company in the dog park for Levi's walk but the dog, apart from doing his business, had stayed glued to them the whole time so, after less than fifteen minutes, the three humans had decided to walk back to the apartment.  
Myles had escorted them until the two women had been both in the apartment and then he had turned to leave.

"Myles." Lucy had called. "Do you want to stay for some coffee?"

She didn't know why she had said those words and she knew even less the reason behind her relief at his affirmative answer. The only thing she knew was that now she was busying herself with the coffee machine to avoid his piercing stare.

For his part, Myles was grateful for the offer. His emotions were still too raw and he didn't want to stay alone. Not that he would say something like this to anyone. So he had jumped at her offer to delay his return to an empty house.

"Why don't you stay here with us tonight, Myles?" Tara proposed, breaking the awkward silence and startling her two friends. "It's already very late and I'm sure you're tired. The couch is quite comfortable, you know."

Myles' eyes went immediately to Lucy's face… well, Lucy's back since now she was polishing the already glistening kitchen.

"Lucy? Is it ok with you?" Tara asked, observing with great interest the hopeful expression on Myles' face.

Lucy took a deep breath and turned around.

"Sure. This way we can all go together to the hospital in the morning." Lucy answered.

"I don't want to disturb." Myles said quietly.

"You don't disturb, Myles. Ever." Lucy assured him with a warm smile and then, widening briefly her eyes, she lowered her gaze to her hands and resumed to polish energetically the kitchen.

Twenty minutes later, Lucy and Myles were sitting together on the couch sipping their coffees, a pillow and a neatly folded blanket behind Lucy's back. Myles was recounting to Lucy the events of the evening and Lucy was offering him the comfort he craved, her hand covering his and rubbing it gently.  
Tara had retired to her room to leave them alone but after five minutes an inexplicable restlessness had invaded her and her heart had gone to another troubled soul. She exited quietly in the corridor, stopping to observe the couple.  
Lucy was hugging Myles tightly and her hand was rubbing his back comfortingly. He wasn't crying but he was clinging desperately to her support. Tara was quite positive that Myles wouldn't have been pleased to find out that someone else was witnessing his moment of weakness and decided to leave them alone and join her heart.

Bobby was resting with his eyes closed. He couldn't sleep. His mind didn't want to shut down. The truth was that he didn't want to sleep. He wanted his mind to work frenetically to remember or reconstruct what had happened.

Why did Johnston know they were FBI? How did he know their names? Did he know about the set-up of the Dominguez's murder? And how? The operation had been carefully planned for weeks. Why did he seem nervous? What had tipped Jack off? And why had he missed it? Why had he stayed still forcing Jack to save his life? Why did he have just a couple of stupid, minor injuries while his best mate was fighting for his life and risked to be paralyzed? Why had he not been ready?

Soon, his mind was too tired to keep working and he fell in a deep, troubled sleep.  
He didn't hear the door of his room opening, he didn't feel the tender caress on his stubbly cheek and he didn't see the tears of relief on the face of the petite, blonde woman beside his bed.


	6. Chapter 6

The room was already invaded by the pale morning sun when Tara woke up feeling Bobby stir in his bed. She hastily retired her hand that had been resting on his arm the whole night and got up.  
He still had his eyes closed but he would wake up soon so she exited the room. She didn't want him to find her there and, if she was lucky enough, Lucy and Myles hadn't noticed her departure. She had to return to Lucy's apartment immediately, but first…

She went to Jack's room and opened slightly the door, taking a peep at the interior through the narrow space.

Sue was sleeping with her head on Jack's bed, her left arm as improvised pillow and her right hand on Jack's left one. Tara glanced towards Jack's face and started.  
His eyes were wide open and his warm gaze was now fixed on her, a pleading request clear in them. Tara smiled.

"You have five minutes. Bobby's already awake." She said. "I'm sooo happy to see you awake!" She turned to exit the room but changed her mind. "Jack. Don't tell anyone I was here. Please."

Jack closed briefly his eyes as an affirmative answer and returned his gaze on the face of the blonde woman beside him. Tara closed the door and fled from the hospital. She had to hurry up!

Jack returned his gaze to Sue's face. She was stunning. Her hair formed a golden halo that framed her delicate features and made her seem like an angel. Her hand seemed so petite resting on his bigger one and still so fitting… In fact, his hand seemed the only natural place for hers. He had to do something about that.

He was alive and, if the tube pumping air in his lungs was any indication, he had been lucky to be alive. He had been given a second chance. Or was it a third one? However, he had to tell her everything, his feelings, his regrets, his projects and his hopes for a future together. And he had to tell her now.

He turned his left hand and stroked Sue's wrist. The woman awoke and fixed her stare on the joined hands, seemingly as fascinated as Jack by them. Then her wide eyes flew to Jack's face and she jumped upright, her face alight with sheer joy.

"Jack!" She squealed, hugging him lightly and then grabbing the emergency button.

Jack tried to stop her and shifted a little on the bed trying to grab her arm.  
Sue felt Jack grasp her arm and, after a moment, tighten painfully his grip.

"Jack, you're hurting me." She protested, turning towards him.

He was pale, even paler than before, and his wide eyes were moving frantically.

"Are you in pain?" Sue asked.

He tried to talk but the tube in his mouth made it impossible and rather painful. He began to agitate and Sue pressed the emergency button with more urgency.

"Jack, you have to calm down. Do not try to talk. Calm down, please. You'll hurt yourself if you don't stay still." Sue's voice was as frantic as Jack movements but she couldn't help it. He was scaring her to death.

Bobby was walking towards Jack's room when he saw a nurse dashing in the same direction. He started running too, his heart hammering in his chest. When he entered the room, the nurse had a syringe in her hands and was nearing Jack's bed.

"What's happening here?" The Australian asked.

"Oh, Bobby! Thank God! Jack is too agitated and is hurting himself. Help me to calm him down." Sue pleaded.

Bobby ran to Jack and with a stern look stopped the nurse in her tracks.  
Dodging Jack's flying hands, he grabbed both his wrists and pinned them down to the bed, grimacing for the pain in the shoulder.

"Sparky! Stop it!" He ordered in a thundering voice. "You're scaring Sue!"

He kept his eyes fixed on Jack's and some moments later he saw the resignation in them. Jack stopped his struggle and Bobby let go of his arms.

"The sedative is no longer necessary." The Australian said to the nurse. "Why don't you go calling a doctor?"

The nurse shot him a dark look but exited the room. Bobby returned his gaze to Jack and saw him slowly raise his hands.

"**My legs.**" He signed. "**I can't move them. ****Why?**"

* * *

A/N: i know someone is reading this story but... Is someone liking it? Or hating it? Or ... something?


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: Thank you for your kind replies! They've been greatly appreciated.

* * *

Sue and Bobby exchanged a pained look. Neither of them wanted to be the one telling him what his conditions were but they didn't want that some cold, professional stranger did it either. A silent communication passed through the two friends and Sue nodded imperceptibly. She took a deep breath and sat on the chair near Jack's bed, taking one of Jack's hands in hers while Bobby stayed fixed on the spot watching Jack's face intently but avoiding his gaze.

Jack kept shifting his stare between the faces of his two dearest friends and his heart sank when he realized that they were both avoiding looking him in the eyes. He closed slowly his eyes but reopened them when Sue called softly his name.

"Jack. You've been hit by four bullets. One of them hit you in the back and damaged some nerves near the column."

"**Am I paralyzed?**" He signed slowly.

"Yes. The doctor said that probably it's just temporary, though. They need to run some texts then they'll know more."

Jack closed again his eyes, trying to rein in his emotions but reopened them when he felt a hand on his right shoulder.

"I'm sorry." Bobby murmured, squeezing lightly the shoulder and then exiting the room.

Jack followed the retreating figure of the Australian with his eyes then returned his gaze to Sue's face. She seemed so worried and so tired. He felt guilty for being cause of sorrow for his friends.

Suddenly, though, Jack's attention shifted towards the door and, following his gaze, Sue met the bearded face of a young doctor.

"Good morning, Mr. Hudson." The man said. "I'm your doctor. My name's Chris Kennedy. I know you must feel quite uncomfortable right now but unfortunately we can't remove the tube, yet. Your right lung has been hit by a bullet and it needs a little help to heal properly. I hope to be able to extubate you after my visit, though. In the meantime we can communicate through these." The doctor pulled a pen and a note-book out of a pocket.

"Those won't be necessary." Sue intervened. "I'll be his interpreter."

The doctor tilted his head on one side, a questioning expression on his face.

"I'm deaf but I read lips. We can use ASL." Sue added, then she turned her attention on Jack when she felt him squeeze lightly her hand.

"He wants to know if the paralysis is permanent." Sue said when Jack stopped signing.

"We don't know, yet. We have to run some exams and I need to visit you, Mr. Hudson. After this visit I'll be able to tell you more."

Bobby raised his head when he heard the door of Jack's room opening. An upset Sue walked briskly to him.

"Well?" He asked anxiously.

"Jack threw me out of the room! He didn't want me there during the visit!"

Bobby had to smile, albeit softly, at the indignation in Sue's voice.

"You know he's a reserved man." He objected.

"Yeah. Irritatingly so." She confirmed shaking her head and sitting beside Bobby.

They stayed in silence for a couple of minutes then, noticing the slumped shoulders and the troubled expression on the Australian's face, Sue placed a hand on one of Bobby's knees.

"You know this isn't your fault, don't you?" She asked softly.

Bobby's face turned for a moment to hers then the agent got abruptly up.

"Did you call the others to tell them that Jack's awake?" He asked. Sue shook her head.

"I didn't have the chance. You're right, though. We should call them." She agreed keeping her eyes on the back of the man who was now watching out the window the busy street below.

Tara let herself quietly in. She tiptoed to the door of her room then she took a couple of steps back and she stopped on the threshold of the living room. No. They decidedly hadn't noticed her absence aaaand… they sure looked good together. The agent sighed quite noisily and Myles stirred a little. She clamped her lips tightly together and stayed perfectly still for some moments. Nothing happened. Myles and Lucy were still sound asleep, both laying on the couch in each other's arms. In a different context and in a different day she'd have taken a picture but today it didn't seem appropriate.

The ring of the phone startled her and woke the sleeping couple up. Tara sprinted towards her room and closed the door as quietly as possible.

Moments later the telephone stopped ringing and Lucy's muffled voice reached Tara's ears through the door.

A squeal and a brief conversation later, Lucy dashed in Tara's room with a big smile on her face.

"Jack's awake!" She announced to a pajamas-clad Tara.

"For the last time it's not your fault, D!" Donna yelled somewhat impatiently. Her husband could sure be irritatingly stubborn at times.

"Yes, it is!" D yelled back. He took a deep breath. "At the very least, it's my responsibility." He then added in a much calmer voice. "I assigned them this case. I sent them undercover. I organized this operation."

"And you did a good job, honey. Garrett left you in charge because he knew you'd be up to the task. You got the man you were after and your men are all alive. Unfortunately, something went wrong. But you once told me something that still keeps me awake at night. You told me that even if you're careful and have a perfect plan, something can always go wrong. There are too many variables. You're all alive, though, and this is what really matters."

"But Jack…"

"Jack's strong. He'll pull through. I know you'll stand by him, you'll help him and I'll be there by your side the whole time. And I'm sure he doesn't hold you responsible. He has been an FBI agent for the last thirteen years and he knows the risks of his job. He could have refused this case. You gave him and Bobby this chance. But they accepted and they knew how dangerous this operation was."

D knew that his wife was right but the guilt was still weighing on his heart and mind. He also knew that it would pass, though. Eventually. In the meantime, he didn't know if he was the right person for taking up Garrett's position. He didn't even know if he wanted to at this moment.

The ring of his cell phone startled him.

"Gans… Great! How is he?... This isn't good, is it?... I'm on my way." He closed the phone and lifted his gaze to meet the expectant face of his wife. "Jack's awake." He announced. "He can't move his legs." He then added.

The deep breath of relief Donna had taken at knowing that Jack was awake stuck in her throat.


	8. Chapter 8

_A/N: ASL will be in **bold** (I should have put this warning when I first used it. Sorry! ). Since I don't know ASL or LIS (the Italian version), except for very few words and fingerspelling, I won't follow this language gramatic or syntaxic rules. I'll just write the sentences as if the characters were speaking English. Forgive me, please, but I have too much respect for the Sign Language to butcher it. I do enough of that with the English language already..._

Thank you for your kind replies Next update on Thursday.

_

* * *

_

"I'll be back shortly with a nurse to take that tube off then you'll go with the nurse for other tests." The doctor said and then exited the room.

The visit had been exhausting and painful and Jack just wanted to rest a little but the door opened again and the whole team, Donna included, entered the room.

"How do you feel?" Sue asked immediately.

There wasn't any resentment in her voice and Jack was glad for this. He was afraid she had felt offended when he had asked her to leave him alone with the doctor but he didn't want her to see him practically naked. Oh well…that wasn't exactly true. He just didn't want this to happen in such an un-romantic context.

"**Sore. Tired.**" He signed, tearing his gaze away from Sue's face and sweeping the faces of his friends. His eyes rested briefly on Tara who widened her eyes in alarm. He would have smiled at that deer caught in the light look… if he hadn't had that blasted tube in his mouth!

"**What happened to you all? You look worse than me.**" He signed and Sue translated.

The team smiled and Jack felt relieved. He needed them to be strong for him because he was feeling so awfully weak! He wanted to be comforted, hugged, reassured…

"**Where's my family?**" He signed.

All gazes rested on Lucy and she cleared her throat uncomfortably.

" They can't come here, Jack. Not right now. I'm sorry. – She answered.

"**Is my mom in hospital again?**" He signed tiredly. He wanted so much his mom. He wanted her to hug him and rock him back and forth like she used to do when he was a child and was suffering. He wanted her to tell him that everything would be all right in the end. Oh, how he hated feeling so vulnerable!

" Yes, she is. Your father can't leave her for the moment. I've not been able to reach your sister, though." Lucy added.

"**Amy's in tour with her theatre company. I don't know where she is but it doesn't matter. I don't want her to worry. Don't tell her anything.**" Jack signed.

" But Jack… " Sue protested.

"**No. She's going through enough already. **"

" You have to leave, people." A nurse said upon entering the crowded room, Jack's doctor in tow. "We have work to do. You can come back this afternoon."

Sue didn't feel tired. D had ordered her to write her report on the operation and then go home but she didn't want to sleep. Sure, the thought of shutting the world out just for a little while was tempting but she needed to be in the bullpen to help in closing the case. She couldn't even return to the hospital because Bobby had stayed there and he sure needed some time alone with Jack. The Aussie had even given her the keys of Jack's apartment so that she could go and retrieve some personal items for Jack. And in the meantime? She had to convince D to let her stay at work.

Sue signed her report and raised her head, bracing herself for the discussion with D but she met the rather surprised faces of her colleagues. Frowning, she followed their gazes and her eyes rested on a petite brunette who was speaking.

"I said hello, guys!"

The brunette turned towards Sue, confusion clear in her face. When she saw the blond analyst, though, her expression changed and a smile lighted her features.

"You must be Sue Thomas." She said and advanced towards the woman. "And you…" She added, kneeling down but keeping her head high so that Sue could read her lips. "You must be Levi, the wonder dog." The dog barked happily and she rubbed him behind the ears.

When she returned her whole attention to the human beside the beast, she saw a befuddled look on the analyst's face.

"Oh, I'm sorry! I didn't introduce myself, did I? Well, clearly Jack hasn't talked to you about me. On the contrary, I know almost everything about you." The girl smiled and recognition dawned on Sue. That crooked smile, that wink, those brown eyes…

"You are Amy." Sue said slowly. "Jack talks a lot about you but he never showed me any picture. You two are so…"

"Alike? Yeah, I know. Everyone has his cross to bear. So, where's my mysterious big brother? And what happened to the others?" She asked, shooting a glance at her back.

"We're just surprised to see you here. We've been trying to talk to you for the last fifteen hours." Tara answered, leaving her desk and hugging the girl.

"Why? What did happen? Where's Jack?"

Tara took one of Amy's hands and led her to Sue's chair.

"Jack is in hospital. He's alive and his life is not in danger but his conditions are serious." Tara explained, Amy's hand still in hers.

"What did happen?" Amy asked again, her voice hoarse.

"He has been shot during an operation."

The brunette swallowed hard and stayed quiet for some moments. Then, she rested her gaze on Sue's face.

"Is he in a coma?" She asked.

"No, no. He's awake. We talked to him this morning." Sue reassured her.

"You said his conditions are serious. What do you mean? How serious?"

Sue observed attentively the young woman before her eyes.

"Tell you what. Now we go together to Jack's apartment and bring him a change of clothes. And on the way to his house, I'll answer all of your questions."

The girl nodded and got up. With a sad smile, she bid her farewell to the team and left the bullpen, waiting for Sue in the corridor.

"The report is on my desk, Luce. Could you give it to D, please?" Sue asked just before exiting the office.

"Sure thing." The rotor assured.

"Poor kid! She seemed so lost!" Tara murmured.

"Well, she's in good hands." Myles reassured her with a kind smile.

Sue observed Amy once again. She had taken well the news about her brother. She had stayed calm and collected. Stoic, like Jack. Her eyes were a little damp and bright but there wasn't any other sign of her inner turmoil.  
The two women entered Jack's house but stayed in the hall, looking around awkwardly.

"I've never been here without Jack" Amy murmured. "It's…"

"Strange." Sue confirmed.

"I feel like an intruder."

"_I bet Allie feels perfectly at ease, here. Now, that was a silly thought._" Sue shook her head to clear her mind and decided to take the initiative.

"You go to the bathroom and take everything he could need: razor, shaving foam, hairbrush… I'll take him a change of clothes." Sue ordered.

"_Bad idea! Very bad idea!_" Sue shot a glance towards the door of the room then returned her gaze to Jack's drawers. Taking a deep breath she opened the first one. "_I can't believe I'm doing this. I should have let Amy take this room. After all she's his sister. Surely she has already done something like this. Maybe if I can convince myself that Jack is my brother I won't feel so out of place… Ok…. well… Jack is my brother… He's like a brother to me… He's one of my brothers… Jack's my brother… yeah, sure. Who am I kidding? Focus, Sue. You're a grown up woman, not a silly teenager! Ok. Here goes nothing._"  
A deep breath and Sue took a couple of boxers and a couple of sockets from the compartment. Then she opened the second drawer and took one of the pajamas there.  
She found a sports bag in the wardrobe and put the clothes in there then she turned to leave the room. A couple of steps from the door she stopped abruptly and turned around. Putting down the bag and walking slowly, she approached the bed, her gaze fixed on the bedside table. She took the frame and sat on the bed, her whole attention still focused on the picture now in her hands.

"I can't believe he kept it." She murmured, blinking rapidly to keep the tears at bay.

A hand touched her shoulders and Sue jumped a little.

"**Sorry.**" Amy signed. "I didn't want to scare you."

"Do you sign?" Sue asked curious.

"Jack taught me a couple of words. That has been taken at the Bachelor Auction, hasn't it?" Amy said, nodding towards the frame.

"How do you know?"

"Jack talks continually about you. He showed me a lot of pictures of the two of you. Apparently Tara is some kind of photo addict… He's totally head over heels in love with you. You know that, don't you?"

Amy observed Sue's face and saw it pass from confusion to joy in a matter of seconds. A smile appeared on the young woman's face despite the weight on her heart.

"I suppose no, then. I love my brother dearly but that man can be incredibly infuriating at times."

"Yes, he can." Sue confirmed.

The two women shared a chuckle but soon Amy's face turned dark and serious.

"He'll pull through, won't he?" She asked.

Sue rested the frame on the bedside table and took both Amy's hands between hers, trying to give comfort to the young woman who was finally letting her see her frailty.

"I'm sure of it. He's strong and I don't need to tell you how stubborn he is. He'll be able to get over this awful experience. And we'll be by his side during the whole fight, together with God."

Sue smiled and Amy, taking a deep breath, returned her smile.

"Now. Let's make up for a terrible injustice. You know a lot of things about me and I know a lot of things about you. I know very little about Jack, though. Tell me something about him as a teenager, please!"


	9. Chapter 9

When Jack was wheeled back in his room almost an hour later, the first thing he noticed was the slumped figure of his best friend awkwardly hunched in an armchair way too small for the Aussie. He was sleeping and, observing his face, Jack guessed that letting him rest was the best thing he could do for him. He seemed exhausted.  
Apparently, the nurse agreed with him because she helped Jack settle in his bed without a word or a sound.

"Call me if you or your friend need anything." She whispered and then went quietly away.

Jack glanced at Bobby one ore time then closed his eyes. He felt tired but not sleepy. Something was bugging him since the moment he and Bobby were told to go to the meeting with Johnston. Something was wrong but what?

An idea had formed in Jack's head when Bobby started to agitate in his armchair. Jack opened his eyes and looked at the Australian. He was still sleeping but was clearly having a nightmare.

"No. Oh my God, Jack!" Bobby murmured and then his eyes flew open.

"Bobby, are you ok? Crash?" Jack asked, worried for the blank stare and the ashen face of his best mate.

The Australian blinked a couple of times then fixed his stare on Jack and smiled sheepishly.

"Yeah. I'm ok. Just a nightmare." He answered, getting up and stretching his long frame.

"Uh-uh. I noticed. Do you want to talk about it?"

"Nah… I mean, yes… well, sort of."

"Crash, you're not making any sense." Jack commented, slightly amused.

"You should be used to it by now." The Australian said with a crooked smile.

"True." Jack conceded, smiling back. "So, do you want to _sort of_ talk about that nightmare?" He insisted.

"The nightmare's not important."

"Then, what is?" Jack asked, shooting a dubious look at the taller man.

"I… I wanted to say… thank you. You saved my life. I'm sor…"

"Stop right there, Crash. You're still not making any sense."

"Jack, I'm serious." Bobby protested.

"So am I."

A knock on the door averted the attention of the two me. Jack's doctor entered the room and took in the tense stance of the Australian and the tired face of his patient.

"Am I interrupting something?" He asked.

"Nothing important." Jack answered, turning a pointed glare at the Aussie who took a deep breath and went to the window to look at the street below, his hands on his hips.

"I see. I have the results of your tests, Mr. Hudson." The doctor said, glancing significantly at the back of the Australian.

"You can talk freely, doc. I'll tell him everything anyway."

"Are you sure?"

The hesitation in the doctor's voice drew Bobby's attention and he approached the other two men. Jack nodded. He needed someone by his side during this conversation. The face of the doctor had already told him what he needed to know and he was scared to death. He needed his best friend.

Sue and Amy were still laughing, albeit softly, when they exited the elevator. They calmed down and walked towards Jack's room. Their destination was hardly visible when they saw the door opening and a serious-looking doctor walking out. The two women quickened their steps. They knocked on the door.  
A hoarse voice invited them in.

"Amy!" Jack exclaimed surprised and a small smile appeared on his face. He opened his arms, ready to welcome properly his sister but Amy stayed rooted on the spot. "Amy?"

Sue looked at Jack then at Bobby. Their faces were dark, drawn, upset… Jack was a little pale… "_No…_ " Sue closed her eyes and swallowed. When she reopened them, Amy was still at her side and Jack's face was showing concern and affection.

"I swear I won't bite, sis'." Jack said with a warm smile.

Amy dropped the bag and rushed to her brother, hugging him fiercely. She broke the hug when she heard him groan.

"Oh! I'm so sorry! I hurt you! I'm an idiot! I'm sorry! I'm just… I was so happy to see you alive! I'm sorry!" She blurted out then she hugged him again, lightly this time.

"It's okay, sis'. I'm fine. Wow! That was some hug! It made me feel good. You give me another little hug and I'll feel even better." He said, winking to his sister and opening his arms again.

"Silly!" She whispered to his ears while hugging him again.

Jack smiled warmly and Sue observed him fascinated. His expression, his whole demeanour had totally changed in a matter of seconds. It was clear that he adored his sister and he had put on a mask to protect her. Touching… but upsetting. Would he behave the same way with her, too?

"So, what are you doing here?" Jack asked, sincerely curious. Had his friends ignored his request?

"I'm here in Washington with my theatre company for three days. I thought hat it would have been great to go and visit my big brother. But when I arrived at the FBI you weren't there and everyone was giving me weird looks… I've never been so scared in my whole life… well, apart that time with mom."

"I know. I'm sorry, sis'." Jack squeezed her hand and gave her a sympathetic smile. "So, you've met Sue, uh?" He asked then.

"Yeah. For once you were right, brother. She's a pretty special lady. We talked a lot." She answered, giving Sue a conspiratorial wink. Sue smiled.

"Yes, it was interesting and… revealing, _Indy_."

"Oh, no! You didn't… Amy! What did you tell her?" Jack asked, an alarmed expression on his face.

"Oh, I merely answered her questions. You were right. She can be very tenacious when she wants."

The two women couldn't keep the smiles from off their faces and even the unusually quiet Bobby had a small smile on his. Jack, on the contrary, was shaking his head with a disconsolate expression.  
A nurse entered the room with a disapproving look on her face.

"This isn't visit hours. The patient needs his rest. So, people, get out and return in a couple of hours, please."

Sue and Amy hugged both men and left the room.  
Jack and Bobby stayed in silence for several minutes. Suddenly Bobby got up.

"I need a coffee." He said.

Jack nodded but kept his eyes trained on the wall in front of him. When the door closed behind the Australian, Jack closed his eyes.  
"_I can't believe it… It's not possible… It's not fair… I can't be paralyzed…_"

_**"Less then 15 percent chance of resuming walking. Little more than 10 percent chance of resuming walking without any cane or limp. I'm sorry, Mr. Hudson."**_

"_Yeah, you're sorry. But what do I do now? What will happen to me?_"

Big, angry tears had started to run down Jack's cheeks and he put a hand on his mouth to keep himself from screaming in desperation.  
Bobby stayed outside the room, his coffee on one hand. He could hear the muffled sound of Jack's sobs and his heart broke for his best friend. Swallowing hard, he sat down in a chair in the corridor and hung his head low, his elbows resting on his knees. A tear fell unchecked into his now cold coffee.


	10. Chapter 10

_A/N: Sorry for the delay in posting. Hectic, very hectic weekend. New update: tomorrow. To make up for Saturday..._

* * *

"Excuse me, sir." A voice startled Bobby and the Australian raised tiredly his head towards the owner of the voice. He really didn't feel like talking to anyone right now.

"Who are you?" Bobby asked, observing the suit the man was squeezed in. It was clear he wasn't a doctor nor a nurse.

"The nurse told me to speak with you…"

"Who. Are. You?" Bobby repeated getting up.

The man took a step back, looking up at the no-nonsense expression on the tall man's face. The stranger cleared uncomfortably his throat.

"I'm Mark Higgins. I work in the insurance division of the hospital. There's a problem with Mr. Hudson's documentation."

"What do you mean? What kind of problem?" Bobby asked, taking a step forward.

The men took another step back and shot a worried glance at the busy corridor. Bobby had raised his voice and many people were now watching them, albeit covertly.

"Could you follow me for a minute, sir? This way we'll have a little more privacy."

Bobby looked briefly around himself. Higgins was right. That wasn't a good place to talk but he didn't want to leave Jack's side.  
The man seemed to read his thoughts and a sympathetic smile softened his features.

"I swear I'll be quick. We don't need to go to my office if you don't want, sir. We could use the doctors' lounge on this floor. It's just behind that corner."

Bobby nodded and followed the man.

Bobby shook Higgins' hand and exited the lounge. still deep in thought, he rounded the corner and stopped at the vending machine for a coffee, fixing his stare on the door of Jack's room at the other side of the nurses' station. He had to talk about this problem with Jack but he didn't know how to bring up the subject. Jack was lying in a hospital bed, paralyzed, and the hospital wanted to kick him out because of some stupid mistake on an even more stupid piece of paper. The Australian observed the nurses coming and going, entering and exiting rooms, their quick steps in clear contrast with the slow and nervous ones of the people who waited to be allowed to see their loved ones. His mind drifted back to the problem at hand. Did they really believe that Jack could care about his lack of insurance and money at this moment? He shouldn't bother him with such trivial issues in such a difficult moment. Maybe Myles could help… He had to inform Garrett and D… and why had that nurse entered Jack's room? Jack had been given his medications not so long ago. Maybe Jack needed something… By this time Bobby was already walking quickly towards Jack's room but a thought made him stop abruptly and then spring towards his destination. There wasn't any male nurse on this floor, not on this shift. A sickening feeling planted itself in his guts and he threw himself in the room, not even noticing that the door had been locked up when he slammed it open with his weight.  
The nurse at Jack's bedside was giving his back at the door and, at Bobby's less than discreet entry, he turned his head, meeting thunderous eyes with his guilty ones. One moment later he was slammed against the floor with such a violence that it literally took his breath away. He had just won his struggle to breath when a fist connected with his left temple and robbed him of any coherent thought. And then he passed out.

Bobby stayed still for some moments, trying to catch his breath. But then a chaos of jumbled sounds invaded the room and Bobby shot on his feet, his eyes finding the panic-stricken ones of his best mate. Jack was already struggling to breath, his chest rising and falling in a frenzied rhythm, his right bloodied hand on his chest just above his heart. His bloodied hand? What the heck had happened to his hand? Then Jack's eyes started to droop and Bobby ran to his side.

"Jack! Jack, stay with me! Sparky!" He yelled, his voice pleading.

Two nurses and a doctor rushed into the room.

"What happened?" The doctor asked and then started giving orders to the nurse.

"I – I don't know." Bobby answered, still confused.

The Australian returned to the man still laying unconscious on the floor. The man had a syringe in his hand, still attached to the IV line that had been unceremoniously extracted from Jack's hand when Bobby had assailed the nurse.

"This man was giving Jack something." Bobby added, taking the syringe in his hands. "There's still some liquid in the syringe." He informed.

A funny thought entered Bobby's mind and he shot an awkward look at the doctor.

"Do you know this nurse?" He asked tentatively, hoping he had just assailed an innocent man who was doing his job because this would have meant that no one had just tried to kill Jack and maybe had managed to succeed.

"No, he doesn't work here." One of the nurses answered while still pumping air in Jack's lungs through an Ambu.

Suddenly, the frenzied sounds of the machines surrounding Jack stopped and a shrill, continuous, hated sound took their place.

"We stabilized him. We had to re-intubate him because the attack worsened the already fragile condition of his lungs. Luckily he hasn't been given all the substance, whatever substance it was, and we've been able to bring him back. He's asleep now. Please, when he wakes up avoid any stress. His heart and lungs have already had enough excitement this couple of days." The doctor said after a couple of minutes.

The fake nurse groaned and shifted slightly on the floor.

"Does he need my expertise?" The doctor asked, trying to assess the man's conditions form his position.

"He'll survive. You can check him later when he'll officially be in the hands of the FBI." Bobby answered. "And you…" He added, placing a foot on the man's chest "Do not even try to think something stupid!"

When the doctor and the nurses left the room, Bobby took his cell-phone to dial the familiar number when the little piece of technology started buzzing. Bobby looked at the caller ID and raised an eyebrow.

"D? I was going to call you." He said, still a little surprised by the coincidence.

"Bobby, we have a problem." D communicated through the phone.

The Australian glanced at Jack and then returned his hard stare to the fake nurse's face.

"My thoughts exactly, mate."


	11. Chapter 11

_A/N: Thank you for reading and reviewing._

* * *

A couple of minutes after Sue and Amy had left to retrieve Jack's clothes, Lucy, Myles and Tara had returned quietly to their own desks Lucy picked Sue's report up form her desk and went to D's office.

"This is Sue's report, D. She left a minute ago to accompany Amy to the hospital." She informed her superior upon entering his office.

"Amy?" D asked, puzzled. "Why was Amy here? Jack didn't want us to tell her."

"And we didn't." She interrupted. "She came to give her brother a surprise."

"And she ended up being the one surprised." D commented softly, shaking his head. "How did she take the news?"

"Pretty well, all things considered. She's a strong woman."

D acknowledged Lucy's opinion nodding slowly.

"Ok. Well, I'll go back to the office." Lucy communicated, turning around.

"Wait." He stopped her. "I'm coming with you."

When D entered the bullpen he couldn't help but notice how quiet it was. His eyes made a quick scan of the room, stopping briefly at each empty desk. Bobby, Jack, Sue. His heart clenched a little when his gaze rested on the desk of his leader agent but his face remained neutral. Noticing he had the attention of the whole team, or what was left of it, he perched himself on his old desk.

"I know this is a difficult moment. In fact, I don't remember a worst moment in my whole career but we have to keep working. Our priority is to find out what went wrong on this operation. Tara, Lucy. You two check the videos from the other night. Myles, you come with me. It's time for Johnston to start talking."

D and Myles returned to the bullpen four hours later, a frustrated expression on both their faces.

"It didn't go well, did it?" Lucy commented upon looking briefly at them.

"He keeps repeating that he wants a lawyer." D confirmed, sighing deeply and sitting heavily on his former chair.

"We have been luckier." Tara announced, effectively catching the men's attention. "ERT analyzed the scene of the shootout and the bullets that hit Jack and Bobby. The bullet that hit Jack in the neck and Bobby in the shoulder doesn't belong to any of the weapon used during the shootout. It comes from a sniper rifle."

D and Myles exchanged a perplexed glance but before anyone could say something Lucy intervened.

"And we found something very interesting on the video, too." She said, nodding to the woman at her side and directing the stares of her other two colleagues to the big screen in the middle of the room. "As you can see by yourself, here Johnston is giving his men the order to kill Jack and Bobby. Then he turns around to climb in the car behind him and go out of the crossfire when something happen. If you observe attentively," She continued, nodding towards the frozen image on the screen "the window of the passenger side is slightly open and the muzzle of a gun is visible. Someone has stayed in the car during the whole operation and then he has pointed a gun at Johnston, leaving him to us, and left the scene."

"No news about the car." Tara added, anticipating D's question.

"Good job, ladies." D praised, pride for his team evident in his voice. "Now, what does this news mean?"

"It means that the shootout was planned, that Johnston was responding to someone and must be royally pissed off for having been left in the middle of this mess and that Jack and Bobby are very lucky. The sniper missed." Myles commented, his tone solemn at the end when the gravity of the situation presented itself with full force.

The four occupants of the room fell silent, allowing themselves the luxury of indulging for a little while in the "_what ifs_". It was Myles who broke the silence spell.

"Who's the guy controlling Johnston? How does he control that sorry excuse of a man?

"Good questions, Myles. Let's find the answers."

Two hours passed with little progress on the investigation. The only news was that the ERT had found on the scene an FBI" issued earpiece and now the four friends were waiting for the DNA results.  
Sue chose that moment to come in and the little group welcomed the distraction from the apparently endless wait for the results. They spent some time filling Sue in and then asking news on Jack, Bobby and Amy.  
One hour later a beep on Tara's computer pierced the renewed quiet of the room and startled the agents.

"The earpiece has been used by Johnston." Tara said slowly, conscious that the situation was even graver than they thought


	12. Chapter 12

_A/N: Thanks for reading and reviewing._

_

* * *

_

"Let me try." Sue insisted, her eyes pleading with D.

"We have already questioned him. He didn't say anything."

"Then you don't have anything to lose." Sue replied stubbornly.

She sure was… what was the word Jack kept using? Oh, right. She sure was tenacious. Biggest understatement of the year! And it was clear she wouldn't accept a no for an answer.

"Ok. If you think you can get some results then I won't be the one stopping you." D conceded.

Sue beamed at him and strode purposefully towards the interrogation room. She had read Johnston's file and she had an idea in mind. If she was right in her assumption then, maybe, they would go finally somewhere. Jack kept encouraging her to trust her instincts, to trust her gut feelings and she was going to do just that.

Sue hesitated only for a moment with her hand on the handle to regroup her thoughts then she raised her head and entered the interrogation room with a confidence she really didn't feel.

"I've already said I won't tell anything!" The man in the room said the moment Sue sat in front of him.

"Fine. I just want you to listen." Sue replied, lowering her hands to her lap to hide her nervousness.

She had to keep reminding herself that there was a man in the monster who had tried to kill two of the most important people in her life. And looking in his eyes she found that man. A scared, truly terrified man who was silently praying for a way out. And if that meant that she would find important answers then she was ready to give him that way out. With D and Garrett's blessing, of course.

"You've been a drug dealer for fifteen years, you're suspected of being responsible for the death of three FBI agents and who knows how many innocent people who used your drugs, of having ordered the execution of five other drug dealers in the last ten years and of having materially tortured and killed at least seven people when you were lieutenant of the mob boss Petrovich. And yet, you've never been arrested. Not once in twenty years. What happened, Johnston? How come you've made such a stupid mistake? You tried to kill two federal agents and what? You forgot to leave the crime scene?"

Sue observed with some satisfaction the smugness appeared on the man's face while she was listing his crimes being replaced by indignation and a flicker of fear. She latched onto that fear.

"We know what happened on that parking lot. We have a video. And in that video there's a gun pointed at you from inside the car that managed to leave the scene. Who was threatening you? Who was in the car?"

The paleness of Johnston's face and his trembling hands told Sue he was battling with himself and that gave the analyst the confidence she needed to continue her monologue.

"Who is controlling you? Why are you ready to sacrifice your freedom for this man?"

The man's eyes flew to her face and the desperation in them surprised Sue. She had her confirmation.

"He's threatening your family." She stated slowly. The expression on the man's face told her she had hit home.  
She forced herself to see him like a victim, like a father who was trying to save his two little daughters and nothing more. He was no more a killer. He was no more a drug dealer. He was no more the man she despised for having tried to kill Jack and Bobby. He was a desperate father ready to do everything he could to save his children. It was more difficult than she had expected but she managed to show compassion and understanding to the man sat before her.

"If you help us we can help you." She added in a soft voice.

The man kept his mouth tightly shut, seemingly afraid that it could take a life of its own and betray him.

"This is my last offer, Johnston. Your last chance." Sue added in a calm tone, trying to mask her impatience.

The gaze of the man started shifting from one side to the other of the room, with brief stops on his clasped hands and on Sue's face, just to repeat the journey over and over again. With her eyes trained on his, Sue started feeling a little dizzy. Time for the last push.

"Okay. You've made your choice, then. I hope you're taking the right decision, for your daughters' sake. I wish you a good, long stay in prison." She said and got up, walking purposefully towards the door without glancing back. "_Please…Please…Please…Please…_" Her little mantra, whispered even in her own mind for fear that Johnston could pick up on it, stopped when she opened the door and turned towards the prisoner for the last time. Had he moved his mouth or it was just wishful thinking form her part? Her breath hitched in her throat as she focused her whole attention on Johnston. And this time she saw clearly his mouth move and pronounce that tiny, little, wonderful word.

"Wait." He said in a whisper.

"Ok. You've got your deal, Johnston." D said upon entering the interrogation room. "The FBI will protect your family if you give us reliable information."

"No. I want _you_ to protect my family, your team. No one else must be involved." Johnston replied.

"Why?" Sue asked.

"Because I trust you."

"That's funny because _we_ don't trust _you_." D replied.

"I know. I wouldn't want it any other way."

"OK. We'll protect your family. My team will deal personally with it. Now, start talking."

Some hours later, an exhausted, worried but determined D exited the interrogation room, followed by a very worried analyst. They found their colleagues in the bullpen, quietly talking near Jack's desk. D knew they had witnessed the interrogation so he took his cell-phone to inform the rest of his team.

"Myles, send someone at the hospital." He ordered before dialling Bobby's number.

"Bobby, we have a problem." He said, not registering the unusual reply of his friend.

"My thoughts exactly, mate." The Australian commented. _That_ caught D's attention.


	13. Chapter 13

_A/N: Thank you for your replies. Welcome back Annie!_

_

* * *

_

Bobby exited Jack's room when he saw Myles waiting in the corridor. Nodding to the two FBI agents guarding his best mate's room, he reached his colleague and guided him to the quiet doctor's lounge.

"How is he?" The Bostonian asked.

"He hasn't woken up, yet but the doctor says that it's perfectly normal. Did you talk to that fake nurse?"

"No. D was starting the interrogation with Sue when I left. They can handle him. Heck, I'm sure sue would have obtained a full confession even from Al Capone!"

"That good, uh?" Bobby asked, slightly amused by the admiration in the Bostonian's voice. It was a little difficult to reconcile the image of the surly Myles who had given to their analyst a very hard time at the beginning with this new Myles who openly complimented her. He had come a long way. And a certain blonde analyst was responsible for that.

"Yes. I've been with D in that room for hours. Nothing. Sue talks to him for five minutes and he starts singing."

"Good job, sheila." Bobby murmured with a grin. Then, turning serious, he asked: "What did he say?"

"He said that the FBI is involved." Myles answered solemnly.

"What? That's a bunch of…"

"No." Myles interrupted him. "He could be right. We found an FBI-issued earpiece on the scene of the shootout. Johnston said that the man who's controlling him gave it to him. He thinks that this mysterious man is an FBI agent… and we agree with him."

"Whoa! Stop right there! Start at the beginning." The Australian ordered.

Myles nodded and stayed silent for some moments trying to regroup his thoughts. Gosh, he was tired!

"You and Jack were doing a great job. Johnston and his men didn't suspect anything. Even after the Dominguez operation they had no idea you were FBI but then a mysterious man called Johnston and told him he had some important information for him. Taking his precautions, Johnston met with this man."

"What does he look like?" Bobby interrupted him. Myles glared at him but answered, perfectly understanding his friend's impatience.

"He doesn't know. That man was camouflaged. He had sunglasses and a hat that covered part of his face and a fake beard, at least according to Johnston, that covered the other part. We just know that he's of Jack's height and build, more or less. However, this man told him that there were two FBI agents in his organization and that if he wanted he could help him get rid of them, of you. He just wanted to be present when Johnston killed you."

"Oh, how sweet!" Bobby commented, his tone bitter.

"He is, isn't he? So, Johnston said yes but soon he regretted it. The man started giving him orders and organizing your death and Johnston didn't appreciate it. It was this man's idea to let you meet Johnston. Johnston agreed just because he wanted to know the traitors' identities, your identities, and the man had managed to keep them a secret till the day of the meeting. At the meeting, the man was giving orders to Johnston through that FBI issued earpiece and had placed a sniper somewhere nearby to kill the both of you. The man told Johnston to keep himself in the shadows and then he told him when he had to let you know that your true identities had been discovered."

"But?" Bobby prompted.

"But Johnston was tired of listening to this unknown man and had planned his own personal punishment for you. He ordered his men to kill you just moments before the sniper had received the order to shoot you…"

"You mean that we're alive because Johnston screwed up?" Bobby asked incredulous, a sudden need to sit down bringing him to the nearest chair.

"Yes. In a way, a very unusual way, he saved your lives." Myles confirmed, a little concerned for the waxy pallor on the other man's face. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah. So, the sniper missed…"

"No. The sniper hit you. Both of you with the same bullet, in fact. It took Jack on the neck and then you on the shoulder."

"Do you think that this fake nurse and the sniper are the same person?"

"I don't know. Though I'm sure we'll know it soon if Sue has anything to say about it."

"Is there more?" Bobby asked after some moments. He couldn't believe it. Two different people trying to kill them at the same moment and they were still alive. "_Somebody must be praying for us. _"

"There's more. When the mess started, Johnston tried to jump in the car and go away from that unhealthy place but our mysterious man, who as promised was there to watch you get killed, was understandably a little mad at Johnston and forced him to stay out of the car by pointing a gun at him. Then he said to Johnston that if he didn't keep quiet he would have killed his family, starting with his daughters."

"So, he wants protection for his family." Bobby concluded.

"Yes. And he wants only our team to know about it. He doesn't trust the FBI right now which is… understandable too, I guess."

"What now?"

"Now, we investigate. Tara and Lucy are trying to find out the identity of the mysterious rogue FBI agent. D and Sue are questioning the fake nurse and you… I guess you want to stay here a little while longer…"

"Yeah. I know that D picked personally the two agents guarding Jack's room but…"

"But three pairs of eyes are better than two." The Bostonian concluded, a sympathetic expression on his face.

Bobby nodded silently then got up and started pacing the small room.

"And you? What are you going to do?" He asked after some moments.

"I guess I'll go questioning the man who pulled you away from Jack's room. Why?"

"I… I need to tell you something about what that man told me." Bobby answered, clearly uneasy about telling other people about Jack's personal problems, even more so when Jack himself didn't know about those problems, yet.

"Probably he was lying. His main priority was to get you away from Jack's room." Myles reasoned after having attentively listened to Bobby's account.

"Maybe. He seemed sincere, though. I mean, I don't think he is involved in this. He was just at the wrong time in the wrong place."

"Let me question him and make a couple o phone calls and we'll know if you're right. If you're wrong, then Jack doesn't have anything to worry about."

"What if I'm right?"

"Then, let me handle this problem. Jack doesn't have to know. At least not now. We'll tell him only if and when it'll be absolutely necessary. He has more important things to worry about."

Bobby nodded and sighed heavily, grateful for Myles' help, glad that someone was taking this burden off of his shoulders. He felt too tired, worried ad guilty right now to be useful to someone or for something. With a nod to Myles, the Australian left the doctor's lounge and returned to his place. In Jack's room, at his best mate's bedside.


	14. Chapter 14

_A/N: Thank you for your replies. They make my day! - ASL will be in **bold**._

_

* * *

_

Jack slowly opened his eyes and tried to take in his surroundings. The light was a little too harsh for his liking and the images were still a little blurred but he forced himself to keep his eyes open. He was in a hospital room and he had a tube down his throat. Again. This seemed like a very bad déjà-vu. The only different thing was that by his bed there was a tall Aussie who was staring at him with a worried face instead of a beautiful sleeping analyst. Then a thought struck him. Maybe it had been just a dream. A bad dream. Maybe he was waking up now for the first time and nothing he remembered had really happened. His mother wasn't in hospital again; the doctor had not said that he would be paralyzed for the rest of his life. Maybe he wasn't paralyzed and that had just been a sick joke of his traumatized mind…  
Keeping guessing was bringing him nowhere so he breathed deeply and tried to move his legs. And his heart sank.

"It wasn't a dream." A soft, strained voice murmured.

Jack raised startled eyes towards the Australian. He had forgotten that Bobby was there. He had been so focused on proving to himself that his life hadn't drastically changed that he had forgotten that he wasn't alone in the room. And now Bobby had witnessed his sorry attempt at denying the reality. How did he know what he was thinking, anyhow? Was he so easy to read? Maybe Bobby knew him too well. Maybe a combination of both things. That didn't really matter. He trusted Bobby with himself. His friend wouldn't say anything to anyone. If that wasn't a dream, though, then what the heck had happened?

"**What happened?**" Jack signed.

Bobby pressed the button to call the nurse and then took a deep breath, trying to talk past the lump that had decided to take permanent residence in his throat.

"Someone tried to kill you. We stopped him just in time but the attack put your lungs and heart under too much stress. They stopped working. Now you're out of the woods but the doctor wants you to stay intubated for a couple of days to help your lungs."

Jack nodded almost imperceptibly, taking in everything Bobby had just told him. Someone had tried to kill him. That was unsettling… and, strange enough, quite interesting… However, first things first.

"**What happened to my hand?**"

Bobby lowered his gaze with a sheepish expression.

"That might have been my fault…"

Jack raised an eyebrow, silently inviting him to continue.

"I've been a little too impetuous in stopping your wannabe killer" He answered.

Jack tried to convey his gratefulness in his gaze. Frustrated at his impossibility to use his voice, he made a mental note to thank his friend properly later when he would not have a tube down his throat.

"**Does Amy know?**" He signed, then.

"No. Not yet."

"**Do not tell her. I need to speak with her.**"

Bobby nodded and exited the room. Through the open door Jack could see two smart suited people standing in front of his room stopping a nurse and a doctor who wanted clearly enter Jack's room.  
"_Great. Just great. That'll be difficult to explain to Amy!_" Jack thought, closing tiredly his eyes.

Jack had managed to convince Bobby to send away the two guards for a couple of hours. "You'll be more than enough." He had assured Bobby. Granted, if he had been able to effectively utter those words he would have been more convincing but luckily Bobby was a big brother too and he had perfectly understood his need not to worry his sister more than necessary. While he waited for his sister to arrive, he took the pen and the notepad Bobby had brought him and started writing what he wanted to say to Amy. This way, their "talk" would be easier, faster and a little less awkward. He hoped.

"Jack!" Amy cried the moment she stepped into her brother's room. "What happened?"

She rushed to her brother's side and Jack frowned, not liking what he was seeing. Large black shadows under her tired eyes and deep lines on her face, clearly caused by too much worry, too much grief and too little sleep, made her seem older than she was. Every doubt he had had about not telling her the truth vanished in that instant. She didn't need to know someone was trying to kill her brother. He decided to stick to the lie he had come up with in the past hour. His lungs had worsened because of a mild lung infection the doctors and he hadn't noticed before. Nothing to worry about. The ventilator was just a precaution. This would be his truth, what he had written on the notepad, what he had instructed Bobby and his doctor to tell if Amy asked. He grasped one of her hands and squeezed it tightly, drawing the young woman to him. He placed the notepad on her hands and kept his eyes on his sister's, trying to hide the concern he was feeling, trying to comfort her. "_Darned tube!_" She seemed to calm down a little and squeezed back his hand then she started reading her brother's message.

"I already know about mom." She said when she finished reading. "I called dad last night to know why they weren't here with you." She added softly, seeing the questioning look on her brother's face. "I wanted to go home to dad and mom for a couple of days but now I don't want to leave you. What if you worsen again?" She asked, her eyes bright and damp, the conflict clear in her face.

Jack shook gingerly his head then gestured to the notepad Amy was clutching tightly between her slightly trembling hands. She handed him the object and waited patiently while her brother wrote what he was unable to say.  
"You go home. Help dad. He's alone. I'm not. Tell dad and mom that I'm sorry I'm not there with them and then give mom a hug and kiss for me. Please!" He wrote.

After having read the message, Amy stayed silent for what to Jack seemed like an eternity, her eyes shifting between her brother's face and the window. Then she nodded lowly, taking a deep breath.

"Ok, bro. I'll do as you want but I want to be updated on your conditions every day, twice a day." She said, her worried expression turning stern.

Jack nodded then pointed to a point behind Amy. She turned and saw the tall, lanky figure of Bobby.

"I guess that'll be my job for a little while, little sheila. Sparky is not exactly chatty these days."

He said with a kind smile, earning himself a small smile from Amy and a mock glare from Jack.


	15. Chapter 15

_A/N: Thank you for your kind replies._

* * *

"What do you mean y_ou_ haven't special agent Hudson's insurance documentation?" Myles yelled to the diminutive figure of Randy Pitts. The little man seemed unimpressed by this outburst.

"I mean that agent Hudson didn't bring me the necessary and, I might add, obligatory insurance documentation so ha can't be covered by the FBI insurance." He replied, trying without much success to conceal the deep satisfaction he was feeling.

"You little… sorry excuse for a man! You knew it! You knew Jack didn't have any insurance cover and you didn't say anything! I'll have your job for this, I swear!"

"You can't touch me, Leland." The man protested, trying to appear unaffected by the threat but failing miserably.

"Oh, don't be so sure. The Lelands are powerful people. Whatever it'll take, you'll be out of this job within this week! I suggest you to start clearing your desk!"

Then Myles stormed out of the room, leaving a very white Randy standing in the middle of his office, silently counting the days left till the end of the week. His brain wasn't working properly so he exited the room and approached his secretary's desk.

"How many days…" He started to ask but Beth, his secretary, interrupted him.

"Two days, sir. Today is Thursday." She answered, her voice a little too chirpy and her expression a little too joyful for his liking. He narrowed briefly his eyes at her but when she didn't scampered away or squirmed as he expected he retraced his steps back to his office and slammed the door behind himself.

Sure that he would have passed the next hour sulking in his office, Beth got up, took a plastic bag from one of her drawers and hurried out of the door. She caught up with the furious agent just outside his office.

"Agent Leland!" She hollered.

The agent turned around and she almost tripped over her own feet when she stopped abruptly a couple of feet away from the Bostonian.

"Yes?" He asked, his tone abrupt and his expression still stormy.

"Mr. Pitts doesn't know I'm here." She said, trying to calm the angry man in front of her.

Then, how can I help you Miss Harlow?" He asked more gently.

"Uhm… I heard you… discussion with Mr. Pitts and I wanted to give you something I found this morning." She answered, glancing apprehensively around.

Myles fixed his hard stare on the woman's face, studying her, and then invited her inside the bullpen where she followed him.

"Hi, Beth! What do we owe the pleasure of your visit?" Lucy greeted her, giving her a quick hug and then sitting again at her desk, ready to return to her work.

"She's with me." Myles said and guided the nervous woman to his desk. This piqued the rotor's curiosity and Tara's but both stayed silent when they met the no-nonsense gaze of their colleague.

"So, what did you find?" He asked, sitting at his desk while Beth sat on Bobby's chair.

"Earlier, when you talked with Mr. Pitts he told you that your colleague didn't bring the necessary documentation but this isn't true."

Myles raised an eyebrow, inviting her to continue, about to lose his temper again if she kept stalling like that.

"When you told me this morning to search for Special Agent Hudson's documentation I… well, I did it. But I didn't find it. The problem is that I remembered your colleague bringing it personally, together with the papers of your analyst, Miss Thomas. Finding just miss Thomas' documentation but not Mr. Hudson's, I went to talk to Mr. Pitts. He wasn't very pleased that you had talked to me and not to him and then he told me what he told you in his office. I remembered the documentation, though, so when he left his office to make a personal call, or so he told me, I entered his room and I…" Her voice faltered and she diverted her eyes form Myles' face.

"You?" Myles prompted, not liking at all where this story was going.

"I… I searched it." She murmured.

"You what?"

"I searched his office. And when I opened one of the drawers of his desk I found this." She said, showing the plastic bag.

Myles took the bag and studied it and the jumble of thin strips of paper in it for a moment. Then he opened a drawer and pulled out a pair of gloves. In the meantime, she resumed talking.

"I opened it and tried to red what was written in there. I didn't understand much but when I found the name of your colleague on one of the strips I decided to take the bag and bring it to you."

"Did you touch this?" He asked, gesturing toward the bag.

"Just the bag. I used a pen to move the strips to try and read something."

"Good job, Miss Harlow." He praised with a kind smile that didn't hide completely the anger he was trying to contain. She nodded with a small smile.

"I'm ready to repeat this in front of whoever you want." She added, standing up.

"Thank you, Miss Harlow. You don't know how much I appreciate your help." Myles said, standing too.

"Oh, I think I do. However, I doubt I'll cry when Mr. Pitts will leave this job." She added then walked away, waving at a perplexed Lucy.

"Tara, could you do me a favour?" Myles asked, trying to reassemble the paper jigsaw in front of him.

"Sure."

"Could you see the state of Jack's personal insurance?"

"What? Why?" Tara asked, bewildered.

"You heard me and I can't tell you. However, I think you'll understand soon enough."

"Myles, I can't." Tara protested.

"You can't or you don't want to?"

"I can but I don't want to. It's not fair to invade Jack's privacy this way. He wouldn't …"

"He's not here now, is he?" Myles snapped. "And he might very well not be able to return. Heck! He could still be in danger! And if he doesn't have the right treatments he still could not survive or, at the very least, recover." He stopped his outburst, aware of the fact that he had already given too much information. And sure enough…

"What are you talking about, Myles?" Lucy asked, clearly worried and even more clearly surprised by Myles' reaction.

"I can't tell you. Not now, however. I need to talk to a couple of people before. You have to trust me, though. I wouldn't ask you something like this, Tara, if I didn't think it was necessary. Believe me, I've just Jack's interest at heart."

"Ok, Myles. I'll do it. But I want to know what is going on as soon as possible." Tara conceded.

"Same here." Lucy added.

"That was a given, ladies. Now, excuse me. I have to talk to D and then to the Director." He said and exited the room, taking along the plastic bag and leaving two very worried and very puzzled women behind.


	16. Chapter 16

_A/N: Thank you for your reviews and thanks to those who are putting my lil' story amongst their favourites. It means a lot to me!_

_A/N2: ASL will be in **bold**.  
_

_

* * *

_

Alone. He was alone. At last! No doctors asking stupid questions, no nurses prodding and poking, no sisters to comfort, no friends to reassure. He knew he was being unfair, that Amy and Bobby had not asked to be comforted or reassured by him, at least not with words. Their bodies and their eyes, though, had begged him to say just the right things, to do just the right gestures so that their hearts could be spared at least from a little pain. And he did the only thing he really could do. He obliged. He said the right things and did the right gestures, easing their pain. Now, he was tired. Now, he needed a little time for himself. A little time to think, a little time to feel just for himself. He was being selfish? Maybe. But he couldn't care less right now. He deserved… no, he needed a little time to open his eyes, look at his situation for what it really was and then… swallow in self pity. Heck! He was paralyzed and he couldn't even feel a little sorry for himself? He had been hit four times. Four times, all at once! He had been unconscious for the most part of the last what? Three, four days? Heck! He was PARALYZED! He deserved at least a couple of minutes to tell himself "Sorry, man. Forget your life, it doesn't exist anymore. You have to reinvent your whole life now." He had thirty-six years and he had to leave everything he had ever loved behind because of some scumbag who didn't like him and had decided he had to die! How had everything gone so wrong? The operation had been meticulously planned. He wouldn't have risked his life and Bobby's if that wasn't the case. Neither would have D. So, what had gone so awfully wrong?  
Jack forced himself to remember every second of the meeting, every detail of the shootout. His gut clenched and his throat constricted painfully around the tube of the ventilator. He shut his eyes and tried to keep in check his emotions because he knew his breathing had gone a little frantic and his heart was hammering in his chest; he could hear the irregular beeping of the machines surrounding him and the erratic beat of his heart in his ears. And this couldn't go on because then a nurse would have run in there, a worried Bobby in tow, asking stupid questions he couldn't answer and giving orders he couldn't obey. So he kept his eyes closed and forced his lungs to do their job properly, his gut to unclench and his heart to return to his normal rhythm. Now. Gosh! Even breathing hurt!

When he managed to take again control over his body, he opened his eyes and fixed his stare on the roof. He could really use a change of scenery right now. However, his little trip down memory line had been useful. Now he remembered what had tipped him off during the meeting, what ultimately had saved his and Bobby's life. Johnston was talking with someone. He had nodded just before calling them by their real names and then ordering his men to shoot them. And he was scared. He was nervous. He was in the shadows. He didn't come out of the shadows even for a moment! Why? The answer arrived to him suddenly and hit him like a slap. He knew about Sue. Whoever Johnston was talking with knew about Sue's skills. That in itself didn't mean much because Sue and her qualities had ended up a couple of times on the press. So, really, a huge number of people knew about Sue but just a few knew she belonged to his team. That meant… that meant something too awful, too hard to accept… One of his colleagues was involved. Not his team, he was sure of that. Some other FBI agent, though, had betrayed his colleagues and had helped a criminal to kill them. Jack closed his eyes. He couldn't believe it. He didn't want to believe it. But it was the only explanation. If Johnston had found out about Jack and Bobby all by himself, he would have killed them right there and then. He didn't like to make things more complicated than it was necessary.  
Who could have such a grudge against him and Bobby to want them killed? An FBI agent who hated them enough to be ready to lose everything just to kill two of his colleagues… or just so arrogant he couldn't even entertain the idea that something could have gone wrong… No! It couldn't be him… Wrong. It couldn't be anyone but him.  
Jack felt suddenly deflated or maybe just really tired. Anyway, he needed the unconsciousness just for a little while. First, though, he had to talk to Bobby. He had to tell him that he had been shot at because of him, that he was just a casualty of war in a private feud gone too far. Where was that man when he needed him?  
Jack shifted his stare a little, trying to see through the small window on the door, hoping to find his best mate there. And sure enough he was right there, doing his routine check on Jack without disturbing him. A very frequent routine check. Jack had seen him there already eleven times in the last hour or so. Yes, he had been counting, trying at the same time to ignore the nurses prodding and poking him. Bobby was still feeling guilty. It was clear in his hunched-over shoulders and in his dull eyes that kept carefully avoiding his best mate's. Jack had to help him see that he couldn't have done anything different. And to help his friend he needed someone else… a blonde, petite woman who had a thing for computers and, apparently, for his best mate…

Jack raised an arm to catch Bobby's attention. The Australian opened immediately the door and reached the bed in three long strides. Jack felt a sudden surge of envy but he pushed it away immediately. It wasn't Bobby's fault.

"You need something, Sparky?"

"**Yes.**" Jack signed. "**Tara.**"

"Do you need Tara?" Bobby asked. His perplexed expression brought a small smile, almost invisible really, on Jack's face.

"**I need to talk to Tara.**" Jack clarified after a moment.

"Oh. Okay. About what?"

"**Later. Tired.**"

"Ok. Anything else?"

"**No.**" Jack signed, closing his eyes. Then he signed something else.

"What? That was a name, wasn't it? I don't think I got it, though." Bobby said a little sheepishly.

Jack rolled his eyes and decided to make it easier on both of them.

"**Notepad.**" He ordered.

Bobby nodded and gave him what he asked. After some moments he took the paper Jack was handing him.

"What about him?" Bobby asked, narrowing his eyes and looking Jack straight in the eyes for the first time since the shootout.

"He is the one who betrayed us." Jack wrote again.

"Are you sure?" Bobby's face had gone pale but it wasn't fear or shock that had caused that reaction. It was just pure, unadulterated anger.

"**Yes. **" Jack signed, tired beyond description but as angry at that man as Bobby was. He just didn't have the strength to pale and seethe right now. Bobby was doing a god job for both of them, though. "**I'm sorry.**" He added.

"What? Why?" Bobby asked, truly puzzled.

Jack was too tired to sign and Bobby was too angry to understand so he took again pen and notepad and then gave them to his friend. "He has a grudge against me, not you. You had almost been killed because of me."

"What are you talking about, Jack? It wasn't your fault. It's that drongo's fault. It's. only. his. fault!" Bobby protested, more loudly than Jack would have liked.

Jack kept looking at him through his outburst and a moment longer, trying to let the message pass through his eyes.

"Oh." Bobby murmured.

"_Oh. _" Jack mimicked in his own head. How he hated that tube!

Satisfied of having made his point, Jack closed his eyes.

"**Talk later. Tired**" He signed.

After some moments he heard Bobby exhale slowly and loudly then retrace his steps and exit the room.


	17. Chapter 17

_A/N: Thank you for your reviews._

_

* * *

_

Sue exited the interrogation room with D but let him go ahead. She wanted just a couple of minutes alone. She took a couple of steps until she found a little recess in the wall of the corridor. There she stopped, resting her back and head against the cool surface. She was so tired! She had not slept in days and her head was throbbing for the effort to keep up with the conversations spoken all around her. And that thought brought her mind back to Jack. In the last days she had realized how easier her life had been thanks to Jack. He helped her every day, shielding her, protecting her from the chaotic world in which they lived. She realized how easier was to follow a conversation with Jack by her side: he signed for her what was too difficult to understand through lip-reading; he gave the rhythm to the conversations, blocking the natural tendency of hearing people to interrupt each other in mid sentence; he guided her through a conversation with a soft touch on her elbow, with a shift of his expressive eyes, with a nod of his head. And it all seemed so natural, like he had made it all his life. She shook her head, slowly crouching down to be eye-level with the soulful eyes of her faithful companion.

"I don't think he even realizes how special he is, how important he is to those who know him."  
Levi whimpered a little and Sue smiled sadly at him.

"You miss him too, uh? Let's go, then. I don't think he'll mind a little company. He's probably already bored out of his mind." She said, pushing away the images of that awful night when he had scared her to death. "He seems to do that a lot." She mumbled, petting Levi.

Stepping again in the corridor, she saw Myles approaching, a stormy expression on his face and a plastic bag in his hands. She called him, trying to catch his attention but he didn't give any sign of having even noticed her. A blond woman with a dog in the middle of an almost empty corridor.

"Maybe we should get him a hearing dog too… What do you say Levi?" She asked, keeping her gaze trained on the back of her colleague. Then, a thought struck her. Jack! Had something happened to him?

She started running along the corridor, Levi at her side, and stopped only when she found herself in the middle of the bullpen, the startled eyes of Lucy and Tara on her.

"What happened to Jack?" She asked, shifting her gaze from one friend to the other one.

"What happened to Jack?" Lucy and Tara echoed at the same moment, sounding as worried as she felt. Almost.

"Has something happened to Jack?" Tara re-worded, getting up.

"I don't know. That's why I asked you!" Sue replied.

"Why should have something happened to him?" Lucy asked.

"I saw Myles march down the corridor with an expression I didn't like. I thought…"

She trailed off, feeling slightly light-headed at knowing that Jack was fine. Well, as fine as he could be in his situation. "So, he's fine." She breathed.

"Yeah. He's fine." Lucy confirmed, sitting again with a low chuckle." That boy better stops giving us such scares. And soon."

"Amen, girl." Tara replied.

"So, what happened to Myles, then?" Sue asked with a soft smile, part of her amused and part of her, the most part, just relieved.

"I don't know. He didn't say anything to us." Tara answered, then she returned to her computer when it beeped softly.

"Beth, Randy's secretary, came her with a plastic bag and they talked for a couple of minutes. Then she left and he exited the room in a fury. He said he had to talk to D and the AD." Lucy explained.

A soft murmur caught the rotor's attention and she rested her eyes on their computer expert, soon imitated by Sue.

"What is it?" Lucy asked. Tara raised her eyes but didn't say anything. "Spill, girl. Is it about that thing Myles asked you to do?"

Tara nodded but stayed silent, keeping her eyes trained on the faces of her friends, clearly trying to decide if she should say something or not.

"Myles said he'll tell us everything soon anyway. We have to know what is going on with Jack." Lucy pressed, shifting her gaze meaningfully to Sue's face, at the moment scrunched up in confusion.

"What are you two talking about?"

Tara took a deep breath and then nodded, having clearly come to a decision.

"Myles asked me to check the state of Jack's personal insurance." Tara said.

"Why?"

"He wouldn't say. He assured us that he'll tell us soon, though."

"He'll better be." Lucy muttered, eliciting a small smile from Tara. "What did you find?" She asked then out loud.

"Bad news. Jack used his personal insurance to pay the costs for his mother's treatments."

"And?"

"And, let's just say that those treatments were very expensive."

"What are you saying?" Lucy asked, worried.

"I'm saying that Jack is broke. His bank account is empty and has been for a while, apparently. And his insurance company won't cover for any more expenses."

"Well, at least the FBI insurance will cove the hospital costs." Sue considered distractedly, her expression worried and a little hurt. "_Why hadn't he told her anything? And how…_"

"How come we didn't notice anything?" Lucy asked. "Some FBI agents we are." She added softly, then.

"_My thoughts exactly. _" Sue thought.

"Well, he's good at the undercover job…" Tara considered

"_True. He's good at the undercover job. He's good at lying. We aren't criminals, though. We are his friends!_" Sue's mind added bitterly.

"What do we do now?" Lucy asked.

"We wait for Myles."


	18. Chapter 18

_A/N: Thank you for your kind reviews. New update: Sunday. The bad guy's identity will be revaled... DUM DUM DUM DUM_

_

* * *

_

Bobby didn't know how much time he had stayed still in front of the closed door of Jack's room but if the ache in his clenched fists was any indication it had been quite some time. In his mind he had driven to Chicago, knocked on the door of the suburban house and beaten to a pulp the responsible of all of Jack's pain. He had seen and heard and felt every single detail with disturbing clarity. The surprise on the other man's face, the shock in his eyes after the first blow, the sound of flesh hitting flesh, the stickiness of the man's blood on his knuckles, the satisfaction of seeing him suffering and begging for a reprieve. Truth to be told, he was a little surprised by the violence of his thoughts but, if he had to be completely honest with himself, he was more disappointed that everything had taken place only in his head. If Jack hadn't been still in danger and so defenceless, then the Aussie would have probably realised what his impulsiveness was suggesting him. But Jack _was_ in danger and needed protection. And now Bobby couldn't afford to trust anyone with Jack's safety but himself and his team. The thought itself of Jack being helpless was disturbing and somewhat bewildering. Jack was never weak, never defenceless, never in need of protection or help. He was strong, stubborn and confident, sometimes even a little cocky. The Jack in the room behind him, though, was clearly weak and defenceless, unsure and suffering… but still stubborn, still a great agent who had probably solved their case all by himself, still a good friend who had wanted to make sure that his friend wouldn't beat himself on something he considered already forgiven and forgotten. A man who didn't deserve what was happening to him but who, and Bobby was sure of this, would overcome everything life would throw at him. _IF_ Bobby stopped to entertain himself in his mind and started to do his job and to help his best mate to protect himself.  
The Australian unclenched his fists and stretched his hands then called D to inform him of Jack's intuition.

###

Two days, a very unpleasant sensation and a fit of coughing later, Jack was ventilator-free at last. Bobby and Sue had been beside him the whole time and the delicate hand of the blond analyst was now handing him a glass of water with a straw. He thanked her with a nod and tried not to empty the plastic container in a huge grateful gulp. "Small sips" the doctor had recommended. And he had been echoed by the nurse, Sue and even Bobby. Jack had rolled his eyes then but now he was dutifully doing as ordered. He wasn't so sure he could have managed much more with his sore and swollen throat, anyway.

"The sweetest thing I've ever tasted." He rasped and then winced.

"What? Are you in pain?" Sue asked, her hand already on the call button.

"No. It's just that I sound like a frog." He joked.

The smiles on his friends' faces more than justified his little white lie. He was a little tired of their worried expressions. It seemed like they expected him to break at any moment, physically and emotionally, and it was slowly grating on his nerves. Add to this the fact that he was a little cranky for having been forced on a bed for three days without any chance to even protest about it… It was the perfect recipe for a big explosion. Even better than nitro. And he didn't want his friends to be collateral damage. So, he decided to defuse the situation, taking a couple of ingredients out of the equation. Namely, his two best friends. He cleared his throat and winced again.

"I'm fine." He said, raising his hand to stop the way over-used questions of his well-meaning friends. "My throat's a little sore, that's all. I… I would like to call my parents…"

The two friends got the message loud and clear, as he hoped they would, and started to leave the room.

"Guys!" He called. Bobby turned around, bringing Sue with him. "Thanks. For everything." Jack said sincerely.

The two agents nodded and exited the room, Sue's smile a gift Jack would keep jealously guarded in his memory.

He took a deep breath, relishing in the possibility to do so. Then he took the phone.

"_Hi, dad… Yes, it's me… I'm fine… Ok, ok, I'm not fine but I'm doing better… Yes, dad. I promise… I don't know when I'll be out of here… No, no, don't worry. Stay with mom… No, seriously dad. Bobby is always, and I mean _always_, with me… How's mom? I'm sorry I can't be there… She's awake?... Yes, thanks dad… I love you, too…_ "  
Jack closed his eyes and swallowed the lump that had formed in his throat. The weak and tired voice at the other end of the phone forced him to repeat the action a couple of times before clearing his throat.  
"_Yes, mom. I'm here…"_ He chuckled. "_No, you're not_ that _boring…_ You _said it… I miss you too, mom… How are you?... Yeah, yeah. Stupid question, I'm sorry… How's the nausea?... Are you eating enough?... How's the pain?..."_ He chuckled but it came out more as a sob. "_Yeah, hospitals always have the best stuff… I wish I were there… How's Amy doing?... Yeah, she's a strong woman. Just like you… Me? I'm already getting better… Yes, they're treating me well… No, I'm not giving the nurses a hard time… What deal?... Mom… Ok, mom. Deal… I'm sure we'll be both out of these hospitals in a couple of weeks… Yeah, we're Hudsons, after all. Tough and stubborn… Ok, mom… Try and rest a little. I'll call you this evening, ok?... I love you… Bye, mom…Dad? Can you leave mom's room for a moment?... Thanks… Mom doesn't sound so good… Dad, please. Don't treat me like a kid… Yeah, I know dad. Please, just tell me the truth… What the doctors say?... How much time?... Please, dad. Don't cry. Mom will notice… Does she know?... And Amy?... No, I want her to stay with you… She can't leave mom now… Ok, dad. I will… Go back to mom and give her a kiss for me… Bye, dad._"

Jack put the phone back in the cradle and rubbed roughly his face with the other hand. Then repeated the action again and again but the sting in his eyes didn't left.

"Oh, God." He half-whispered half-sobbed. "Oh, God."

His chest felt heavy, like if an elephant was sitting on it, and his throat was constricted. He felt like not enough air was reaching his lungs and for a moment he wished the doctor hadn't removed the ventilator.  
A nurse entered the room and approached the bed.

"Problems, Mr. Hudson? Are you in pain?" She asked, checking the irregular patterns on the monitors.

"I'm fine!" He snapped. "Leave me alone!" He cried. "Just... leave me alone." He whispered, his body shaking with deep sobs.

The nurse exited quietly the room forcing her passage through Bobby and Sue who, just outside the door, witnessed with heavy hearts the break-down of their dearest friend.


	19. Chapter 19

_Thank you for your kind reviews. As promised, here comes the bad guy... well, his identity... For the moment..._

* * *

"So, still nothing?" Jack asked that evening.

"Nothing." D confirmed, studying the tired and suffering appearance of his team leader.

"We didn't find anything that can link him directly to Johnston or the shootout." Myles said, shaking his head.

"He's one of the best FBI agents I've ever known, Myles. What did you expect?" Jack asked, no accusation in his tone.

"And he didn't do anything unusual these days, either." D added. At the questioning looks from his friends he elaborated. "I have a couple of good friends in Anchorage, people I trust. I asked them to keep an eye on Tony."

"Anchorage?" Bobby squeaked. "I thought he was working in Chicago…" Bobby commented, glad beyond description of not having followed his first instinct and punched a poor innocent guy, making a fool of himself.

"He was. He was transferred, though, to the Anchorage office after the investigation prompted by Jack confirmed he had operated in a less than transparent way in more than one case." D explained, watching curiously the Australian who was fidgeting uneasily a couple of feet from him.

"There's more. From the investigation came up also his unfaithful behaviour towards his wife who, a couple of months ago, just before his transfer, took their children and left him. She went to her mom's and a week ago her lawyer sent Tony the divorce papers." Tara added.

"Oh." Bobby commented. "I guess we have our motive, then."

"I didn't know about the divorce." Jack murmured.

"It doesn't come as a shock, though. I mean, what with is Casanova attitude… It was bound to happen sooner or later." Tara commented.

"What do we do now?" Jack asked, eager to change the topic. He felt a little sorry for what had happened to Tony Capono. He didn't want all this to happen. He just wanted to be sure that the agent wouldn't put in danger anyone else. A little ache in his chest, though, and an attempt to shift position to put an end to his discomfort and the guilt was soon replaced by anger. That man had tried to kill him and Bobby! To get his revenge for something that wouldn't even have happened if not for his own questionable behaviour, Tony had betrayed the FBI and his colleagues and now Jack was… this way!

"We wait, I guess. He'll make a mistake and we'll be ready to catch him." D replied.

"There must be something we can do!" Jack protested. He couldn't believe, couldn't accept that there was the possibility that Capono didn't pay for what he had done. "Did you question the fake nurse?"He asked when it was clear that no one had any reassurance for him.

"Yes. Like Johnston, though, he never saw the face of the man. In fact, he didn't even meet him." Sue answered.

"And how did they communicate?"

"By phone. Tony called him a couple of times to organize the attempt to your lives."

"So we have his cell number?" Jack asked, hoping in an affirmative answer but knowing it wouldn't come. It couldn't be so easy.

"Nope. He used a pre-paid card for the phone. Not traceable. And now it is disabled." Tara explained, frustration clear in her voice.

"Did he say if he was the same who shot us during the meeting?"

"He said that he didn't know anything about any meeting. And I believe him." D answered. "He isn't a sniper. He is specialised in what he called _accidents_." He added. "What?" He asked upon seeing his team leader deep in thought.

"We have to do something. Maybe we can lure Tony out of his hiding, so to speak."

"What do you mean?" Myles asked.

"I mean, we can use the fake nurse to force Tony to do a mistake. Has the word of his capture already spread?"

"No. We already suspected a FBI agent was involved in the shootout so we kept it a secret. No one, except for us, Garrett and the AD, knows about this." D assured.

"Good. The less the better." Jack commented. "This works at our advantage."

"How?" Tara asked, not fully understanding what was passing through Jack's mind.

"We let Tony believe that we didn't caught… what was his name again?"

"Mark Curtis." Lucy supplied.

"Right. We let Tony believe that even if he failed in his attempt, Curtis managed not to get caught by us. Hopefully Tony will contact him again to order him to complete the job. This way we can catch him red-handed."

"Are you suggesting to use Curtis as a bait?" Bobby asked, perplexed.

"Exactly." Jack confirmed, looking around and trying to gauge his friends' reactions to his plan.

"Do you think Curtis will agree to our plan?" D asked a couple of minutes later, after having mulled over the idea and examined it from all angles.

"I'm sure we'll find a common ground with him."

"This might work." Myles commented.

"Yes, it might. In the meantime, though, Jack you will be under protection of the FBI. One of us will always be with you in this room while two agents will be outside your door as a first line of defence." D ordered.

"I don't think this is necessary." Jack protested, albeit weakly. He knew he couldn't win this.

"Someone tried to kill you twice in less than a week!" Sue exclaimed in a voice laced with… was that fear? For him?

"Yeah. I know. I'm sorry. You're right." Jack apologized, feeling guilty for the worry he could see in his friends' eyes. "It's just that I don't like to be the centre of so much attention."

"Then you should stop attracting trouble like a magnet." Lucy commented with a kind smile.

"Yeah. You're right. But you know me. I bore easily." Jack retorted trying to match the levity Lucy had mercifully introduced in the conversation and shooting her a grateful glance. She nodded softly.

"Then next time you should try chess, Sparky." Bobby quipped, immediately catching on the silent communication.

"Oh, I don't' know. I heard it can be a very dangerous game. What if one of those Russian guys isn't happy with me winning?"

"Then I wouldn't worry too much." Myles commented with a smirk.

"I'm offended." Jack replied with a mock hurt expression on his still slightly pale face.

"How about knitting?" Tara proposed.

"Hmmm. I don't thing it's such a good idea… All those big, pointy needles..."

"Watching TV?" Sue tried.

"Tempting. But they say that too much TV can damage one person's brain."

"And we know all too well how you can't afford to lose anymore brain cells…"

"Myles, I don't think I want you to keep me company in the next days. D, could you assign Hannibal Lecter to my protection, instead? I think I'd be safer."

Jack was trying very hard to let himself be swallowed by the easy banter he had contributed to start but a disturbing thought kept tugging at his mind. Was it his imagination or his friends were suggesting exclusively sedentary activities? They didn't believe in a full recovery, did they?  
The words of his friends became a background blur until Sue's silken voice brought him back to reality.

"Or you could try playing golf." She suggested.

"_Stupid, stupid Jack!_" Jack berated himself, both surprised and scared by the deep relief he felt.

"Nah. I'm not the type. And I don't think the whole golf outfit would become me. Too ridiculous. Myles on the other hand…"

"I'll let you know that golf is a noble sport and..."

Jack let his friends' words wash over him. He had more pressing matters to occupy himself with right now. "_Maybe I can do it, after all"_


	20. Chapter 20

_Thank you for your reviews. They mean a lot to me. A little Jack and Bobby moment..._

_

* * *

_

"Two more days and I think you'll be ready to start with the physiotherapy. You need to strengthen your upper body so that you'll soon be able to get on and off the wheelchair, to wash, to go to the bathroom by yourself."

The doctor's words would have been good news if they hadn't been so humiliating. Jack already knew how to go to the bathroom by himself or how to wash… His mother had taught him how to do these things a long time ago. And now some bulky, sturdy man would manipulate him for a couple of hours every day and then would teach him how to pass from the wheelchair to the toilet bowl. It was plain humiliating. And quite frightening. It sounded a lot like accepting the fact that he wouldn't walk ever again.

"What about his legs?" Bobby asked, a note of irritation in his voice. Apparently, he had heard the same finality in the doctor's words as Jack had.

"The physiotherapist will work on them, too. It is imperative not to let the muscles lose their tone if there's even a remote chance for you to start walking again. I know I don't sound as positive as you'd like but you have to understand that it will be a long process. It will take months, even years for you to start walking again. In the meantime, we'll do everything we need to do to give you as normal a life as possible."

"I understand and I thank you for your sincerity, doctor. It doesn't mean I have to like what you're telling me, though." Jack replied, his stare fixed on the young but professional looking physician.

"I wouldn't want it any other way." The doctor said with a kind smile, turning to leave the room.

"Wait." Jack called. When he had again the doctor's attention he resumed. "When will I be able to leave the hospital?"

"I'd like to keep an eye on your lungs for another couple of days and then I'd like to see how the physiotherapy goes so… a week, ten days at the latest. I suggest you to stay here as long as possible, though. We'll take good care of you, Mr. Hudson."

"I'm sure of it but I have to take care of some personal things." Jack replied.

"I see. Well, I'll give you the numbers of a couple of good clinics here in Washington."

"Thank you, doctor." Jack said sincerely.

Once the doctor left the room, Jack turned towards Bobby, feeling the Australian's eyes piercing a hole at the back of his head.

"What?" He asked.

"Why do you want to leave the hospital so soon?" Bobby asked.

"I need to go home, Bobby. I need to be near my mother." Jack explained, eyes suddenly stinging. He rubbed roughly his face with a hand. "I've been too far away from home for too long. What with the Johnston's case and then the undercover mission… I've not been home for almost five months, you know? Five months! And while I was trying to gain the trust of a criminal my mother was fighting against something that, in spite of our prayers, her never wavering strength and the best cares we could afford, is still killing her. Now I need to stay with her."

Bobby looked away from Jack's face. It was already hard hearing the raw emotion in his friend's voice but he couldn't bear the anguish on his face or the guilt in his eyes. His too bright eyes. It was a sight the Aussie wasn't used to . He risked another glance towards Jack and saw him swallow convulsively with his eyes tightly closed. Bobby turned to look out the window and cleared his throat.

"Why didn't you tell us anything? We could have helped."

"How? Believe me, you couldn't have done anything more than we did."

"I'm sure you're right. But we could have passed the case to another team so that you could go home. We could have helped you to deal with all this." Bobby insisted.

"This is exactly the problem, Bobby. I think I didn't want to deal with all this. If I didn't say it to anyone then it wasn't really so… real. I guess it was my way to control something I knew I couldn't control." Jack's voice was little more than a whisper but the bitterness in it was clear.

"Yeah. You've always been a control freak." Bobby said, hoping to redirect Jack's thoughts from the self-recrimination he was inflicting to himself to something else.

After a long, apparently endless, moment of silence the Australian heard a low chuckle and turned around to see his best friend smiling softly and shaking his head.

"When we were younger Amy made a mission of repeating me these very words at least ten times a day. There has been a period when those were the only words she was willing to tell me."

"What had happened?"

"She was mad at me because I had punched a guy who was kissing her. The fact is that I had told her not to talk to that guy because I didn't like him." Jack chuckled again. "My father was out of town for work and I remember the stormy expression on my mother's face when she arrived at school after having been called by the principal. She didn't say a word to me until we arrived home then she asked me what had happened. I told her everything and I explained her that I was only trying to defend Amy from the less than innocent attentions of the Casanova of the school. She listened without saying a word. Then she grounded me for two weeks. That evening she brought me the dinner in my room, she sat on the bed beside me and gave me a kiss on the forehead. After a moment she told me I was a good big brother but that if I hit another person ever again she would put me on her knees and spank me until I hit adulthood. The funny part is that at seventeen I was already higher than her of a good ten inches but that thought didn't even pass through my head. She was downright scary, man, even if she hadn't ever raised a hand on me or Amy."

"Scary isn't the word I'd use for your mom, Sparky. She's such a sweet, charming lady."

"That's because you've never tried to steal one of the thousands cookies she used to cook for the children of the catechism. Believe me. She. Was. Scary." Jack insisted with a smile and a faraway look on his face.

A loud yawn from Bobby broke the companionable silence that had followed the remembrance.

"Sorry." The Australian murmured with a sheepish expression. Then he cleared awkwardly his throat when he realised he was the object of his friend's thorough study. "What?" He asked after a moment.

"You don't look so hot, Bobby." Jack observed, frowning.

"That's not what the ladies keep saying." Bobby joked.

"You're funny, you know? You should be on stage." Jack commented with a smirk.

"Yeah. I have my moments."

"I'm serious, Bobby. You look worse than me. Have you slept at all in the last days?" Jack asked. "And don't lie to me." He added with a pointed look.

"You're worse than my mother, Sparky, I swear." The look on Jack's face didn't change and Bobby sighed. "Ok, fine. I've slept. More or less. I've tried to, anyway."

"What does it mean?"

"It means that I can't sleep, okay? Every time I close my eyes I see the scenes of the shootout all over again and then I spend the following hours trying to figure out where I did wrong, what I could have done to change the outcome of that meeting…"

"Bobby." Jack called but the Australian didn't heard him.

"I should have seen that rifle. I should have understood something was wrong…"

"Bobby!" Jack called louder, trying to catch his friend's attention.

But Bobby was on a roll and after the initial reluctance he had found out that he couldn't stop, that he didn't want to stop. He needed to talk about this. He needed to talk about this with his best friend. It was something familiar in the most unfamiliar situation he had ever experienced.

"Crash!" Jack all but screamed.

_That_ got Bobby's attention and he stopped abruptly his monologue.

"You didn't' do anything wrong. Things could have gone differently, that's true. We could have both died. I could have die. You could have died. And this wouldn't have been acceptable. And I swear that if I had an opportunity to live that day over again I'd do everything exactly the same. I prefer having lost my legs than my best friend. We've been lucky. It could have been a lot worse."

In the following minutes the only noises in the room were the rhythmic sounds of the heart monitor and Jack's shallow breathing, both friends too stunned to speak. Bobby hadn't expected by the passion Jack had put on his speech, a vehemence that had left him literally breathless, his lungs evidently not completely healed, yet. Jack was surprised by how much he believed in what he had just said, by how true those words, meant only to comfort, really were.

"You know…" Bobby croaked then cleared his throat to get rid of the lump that had suddenly appeared there. Gosh! He was turning into a whining girl, always ready to burst into tears! And what he was about to say wouldn't help his cause in the least. "You know that this is the first time you called me Crash since the shootout?"

"Is it?" Jack asked, perplexed. At Bobby's nod he shrugged. "I guess the drugs they're giving me here are messing up with my head more than I thought. And you know something else?"

"What?"

"You're going to sleep."

"What are you talking about? This is my turn to stay here with you." Bobby protested.

"Yeah, I know. But you need to rest. You won't be any good to me if you're dead on your feet. And I need to see a prettier face than yours for a while. No offence, mate."

"Nice, Jack. Really. You know how to make someone feel appreciated. Anyway, I won't leave you alone."

"Ow, come on! Nothing is going to happen to me. There are two FBI agents at my door. Even my own doctor has problems to enter my room! What do you think it could happen if I stay alone for a couple of hours?"

"I don't know. And I don't want to find out so if you insist that I leave the room to rest for a couple of hours then I'll find someone to take my place."

"Fine! Then I'll find someone to bring you home. You're too tired to drive by yourself."

"I appreciate the concern, Sparky, but I've been worse. Believe me." Bobby assured.

"I don't care. If you want to find me a babysitter at all costs then you'll have to accept my conditions." Jack bargained.

"Fine!" Bobby conceded after a minute.

"Fine!" Jack echoed.


	21. Chapter 21

_A/N: Thank you for your kind reading and for taking the time to review. Your words mean a lot to me. _

_Let's go see how things are going at the office..._

_

* * *

_

"It just doesn't make any sense." Myles commented. "Firstly, Randy is an idiot but he's not a criminal. Secondly, why should he want to kill Jack? If he had done this to me then it would be another story altogether but Jack keeps stubbornly treating him like if he was a human being. Pitts doesn't have a motive."

"Money?" D proposed.

"I don't think so. He comes from money. He's not rich, not anymore anyway, but he lives alone and he doesn't have a lot of extra expenses." Myles added.

"Still, the evidence leads without any doubt to him." The AD pointed out.

"And this is the third thing that doesn't add up. Even though Pitts is an idiot he isn't stupid and he's still an FBI agent even if he's just a bureaucrat. Why leaving evidence of his crime in his own office where everyone could find it easily? Even his secretary, Beth, who has been working for the FBI for little more than one year, knew that those things would incriminate him. She…" Myles' voice faltered at this point and he furrowed his brows in concentration.

"She what?" The AD asked when it was clear that Myles wouldn't elaborate further.

"Myles?" D called when the AD words didn't seem to register in Myles' mind.

The Bostonian's gaze fell unfocused on D's face but another whole minute passed before Myles spoke up again.

"She isn't telling the truth." Myles completed. "How convenient for her to find exactly what she needed to prove Pitts' involvement in this mess."

"And what would be her motive? Hudson is very popular amongst the female population of this building." The AD observed with a grin that D echoed. Myles rolled his eyes.

"That's quite true." He admitted reluctantly. "But for a couple of weeks someone else took his place as Mr. Handsome in the building."

"Tony Capono." D concluded, widening his eyes.

"Tony Capono." Myles confirmed. "Maybe he's stolen our Beth's heart and now she's willing to do anything for him. If he's good at something it's at manipulating people." He explained, disgust dripping from his voice.

"You could be onto something, Leland." The AD commented. "How do we prove your theory?"

"Beth is a good girl. A little naïve maybe but she's not a heartless criminal. I think she'll tell us everything if we explain to her what exactly is that her boyfriend has asked her to do." Myles answered.

"This would prove Pitts' innocence." And at that the AD had to stop to stifle a chuckle upon seeing Myles' frustrated expression. "But it doesn't help with Hudson's situation. It'll be weeks before things will be alright again with the insurance company. I'll try to hurry things along but in the meantime…"

"In the meantime, Jack will receive the cares he needs and deserves. There won't be any problem." Myles assured with a determined expression.

When he returned to the bullpen the room was empty except for Lucy who was busy typing away at her computer.

"Where is everyone?" He asked, stifling a yawn. He was tired. No, scratch that. He was beyond exhausted. He had done the night shift at the hospital and then he had gone directly to work because something about the insurance problem just wasn't right and that thought had kept nagging at him throughout is lunch until the discussion with D and the AD. He couldn't believe he had just saved Pitts' as… ahem, astonishingly long career! He had however felt the need to point out Randy's superficial behaviour in this occasion. It was true that he wasn't directly responsible for the problems Jack was, unknowingly, having but if he had done his job properly then they would have probably avoided this problem or, at the very least, they could have put things right a lot sooner. Luckily, the AD had agreed with him.

"Bobby called. He said that he needed someone to take his place at the hospital and someone to drive him home." Lucy explained getting up, an unreadable expression on her face.

"Why? Has something happened to him?" Myles asked, worried, a hand already over the phone ready to do the necessary arrangements to take Bobby's place. He was tired but rest could wait if …

"No. He's fine. He just said that those were Jack's orders." She answered, shrugging softly and coming closer to the Bostonian. "They won't need your help, Myles. Not this time." She added, resting gently a hand on Myles' tense one and tugging lightly to convey her message.

Myles kept staring at her with a perplexed expression. Lucy was acting weirdly and he could see she had something in mind but for the life of him he couldn't imagine what it was. So he resorted to asking.

"What?" He asked a little hoarsely, a sudden tension growing inside him.

She kept his hand in hers and her eyes locked in his for a moment longer then she did something that left Myles speechless and incapable of coherent thoughts. She leaned over and kissed him, first tenderly on the cheek then soundly on the lips. He responded to her touch, his body clearly remembering a time when this dance was as familiar to both of them as breathing, a time when he was lucky enough to be a part of this woman's life.

"What was that for?" He asked after they broke the connection and once his brain kicked in once again. "Not that I complain but still…" He added hastily.

"I wanted to thank you." Lucy said simply, like if that sentence would explain everything.

"What for?" He asked again.

"For what you're doing for Jack."

"It's my job, Lucy. Now, if you want to thank me this way for every case I deal with then I won't be the one to stop you. I mean…" But his nervous speech was interrupted by a finger on his lips, an intimate gesture that stirred a deep nostalgia inside him. Nostalgia for a time when this intimacy was given to him freely by the gorgeous woman who was now standing in front of him with a tender expression on her face. And something else…

"Not that. For what you're doing at the hospital, with the insurance." She clarified, a sculpted eyebrow raised as if to defy him to deny his actions.

"Oh, that." He exclaimed softly, surprised by… well, by everything at this point. "It's nothing. I'm doing what everyone else would have done. How do you know about it, anyway?"

"I have my sources and no, I won't tell you who this source is. And you're wrong. Not anyone would have done what you're doing. _You _wouldn't have done it a couple of years ago. You were very professional but loyal? Not so much…"

And at this remainder of his unfaithful behaviour he visibly flinched.

"… and never generous. Now you're acting like the generous, loyal, good man I saw hidden deep down here" She said patting lightly his chest. "when we first met. A man I'd like to know better, to see more often, to spend some quality time with."

And at this point Myles found himself once again speechless and devoid of any coherent thought, a feat that only the woman before his eyes had ever managed to accomplish. He resorted to express himself in the old fashioned way. He cupped her face between his hands and kissed her like he never had. Tenderly, lovingly, reverently.


	22. Chapter 22

_A/N: Thank you for your reviews. A little more patience for Jack and Sue... Right now I can give you Tara and Bobby. Can you forgive me?_

_

* * *

_

Stopping the car at a red light Tara turned her head to watch Bobby looking out of the window of the passenger seat. He seemed a little more serene than the day before but there was still a frown on his handsome face. Jack was right. Bobby looked very, very tired and a little worn. Until the shootout she had never thought possible to associate such words to Bobby but now...  
When an impatient driver behind them signaled her, very loudly, that the light had turned green Tara, taking a sudden decision, turned left instead than right.

"Where are we going?" Bobby asked, uttering his first words since they had left the hospital.

"I treat you to dinner." She answered with a kind smile.

"Ah... thank you but I'm not that hungry."

"Well, you've got no choice. I feel like cooking tonight and a need a guinea pig for a new recipe." Tara replied unperturbed.

"Tara... I really appreciate it but..."

"Ok. You want the truth? I don't want to stay alone tonight. So I thought we could keep each other company for a couple of hours. After dinner I'll drive you straight home. I promise." She glanced in his direction to gauge his reaction to her words then she returned her full attention to the road. She just hoped that if Bobby convinced himself that this evening was something "she" needed then he would agree for her benefit.  
A couple of minutes of silence followed then Bobby sighed and turned his head towards her.

"So, what am I going to eat tonight?" He asked.

"_This man has a heart too big for his own sake_." Tara thought, trying to hide the smile that would betray her intentions.

"That was the best lasagna I've ever eaten!" Bobby exclaimed, rubbing a hand on his pleasantly full stomach. When was the last time he had eaten more than a stale sandwich? A week? Two? He honestly didn't know and didn't care. Not right now. Now he had to help a blushing, beautiful woman to wash the dishes. If only his mother could see him in this moment. "_She won't believe it when I'll tell her. Maybe I should ask Tara to take a picture as evidence..." _He thought.

"Who won't believe what?" Tara asked perplexed.

"What?" He asked bewildered.

"You said she won't believe it when you'll tell her. So, who won't believe what?" She repeated.

"I... ehm..." Bobby stammered. He had to be more tired than he thought. "Did I said it out loud?" He asked, just to be sure. The alternative was that Tara had read his mind which was absolutely preposterous...

"No. I read your mind." Tara answered seriously.

... or not. "_Wow. Creepy."_

"Ah... I..." When had he become a stumbling idiot? That was Jack's forte. He was a perfectly coherent human being once, wasn't he?

"I was kidding, silly. You said it out loud. Well, to be more exact you were mumbling but..."

Silly was an euphemism. Idiot was more appropriate. He couldn't believe she had played him so easily...

"My mother." He said suddenly. "I was just talking about my mother." And why exactly had he felt the need to make that perfectly clear?

To her credit Tara didn't seem thrown by Bobby's abruptness.

"What she wouldn't believe?" She asked.

"That I'm helping you to wash the dishes."

"Why? You weren't a good son?" She asked with a smile.

"Oh, I was a wonderful son. I still am a wonderful son. My mom keeps saying it to me every time I call her. Just for the fact I remember to call her, I think. I wasn't very good at doing the chores, though. I think she spent the best part of my adolescence yelling at me to clean my room, to help her cleaning the kitchen, to help dad with the animals and our garden... -

"Animals? What kind of animals did you have?" Tara asked, excited.

"Well, a couple of hens, a goat, a cow, a kangaroo, then a..."

"A kangaroo?" Tara interrupted him. "Did you have a real kangaroo?" Tara was now literally bouncing with excitement.

"Obviously... no!" He answered, smiling at the crestfallen expression on his friend's face and then rising his arms to defend his face from the dishcloth thrown with surprising strenght towards him. "Hey!" He protested. "What was that for?"

"You made fun of me!" She answered, pouting.

"Wrong. I got my rightful revenge." He clarified with a smirk. And in that moment a sopping sponge hit him square in the face.

"Ooops!" Tara squealed, giggling and running towards the living room to escape from the Australian.

Bobby, for his part, considered himslef a man on a mission. She would pay for this.  
He found her behind the couch, the piece of furniture between them as some kind of protection. He locked his eyes with her twinkling ones and started circling the little table in the middle of the room. Arrived just in front of the couch he stopped, keeping his eyes trained on Tara's lithe figure and studying her movements. When she inched on her right he mirrored her move, when she shifted on the left he stepped to the right in a dance that kept them practically unmoving for minutes. Then with an ill-suppressed giggle she sprang to the left and Bobby, tired of the wait, leapt on the couch and blocked the way. Startled, Tara let out a squeal and backed away against the back of the couch, ending in an ungraceful heap on its cushions. In a moment, Bobby was on her tickling her mercilessly and eliciting from her a fit of laughter that, and Bobby was sure of it, was the most beautiful sound he had ever heard.

"Stop! Please!" Tara pleaded when she couldn't breath anymore because of the laughter. "Truce!" She gasped when Bobby didn't stop his assault.

Bobby tilted his head as if considering her request. Her face was flushed, her eyes were bright with tears of merriment and her chest heaved for the attempt to take in as much oxygen as possible.

"I think I got my payback." He conceded. "_And so much more_" his mind added. Bad, bad mind.

When the Australian let her go, Tara made a show of composing herself but kept shooting glances in Bobby's direction to study him. He was smiling broadly, his eyes were twinkling and his face had lost the unhealthy pallor and permament frown. No, she wasn't ready to let him go.

"Movie?" She asked, after having tidied her hair with a hand.

"Ok. No chick-flicks, though."

"No, chick-flicks. Promise. So... hmmm... What about... The Untouchables?" She proposed.

"Too serious."

"Scary movie?"

"Not enough serious."

"Ok. What about a classic? Indiana Jones and The Temple of Doom?"

"Good choice. It's one of my favourite movies." He approved, settling himself more comfortably on the couch.

"This means you've seen this movie..." She let the sentence hang in the air for Bobby to continue. And he obliged.

"At least fifteen times. Maybe twenty."

"You'll know it by heart by now." She observed.

"More or less. It doesn't change the fact that I love this movie and that I'm ready to see it for the twentyfirsth time." He assured her with a smile, patting the couch beside him to invite her to hurry and sit next to him. "Besides, the company this time is way more fascinating than the previous twenty times..."

One hour into the movie Bobby was snoring softly with his head on Tara's shoulder where it had landed after a strenuous fight with himself to stay awake. Feeling her own eyes start to droop, Tara turned off the television and the videorecorder and turned her head towards Bobby. Hating the possibility to wake him up but knowing that with his tall frame that position couldn't be comfortable, she took his head between her hands and, getting slowly off the couch, guided it to rest on the space she had just vacated. Then she took Bobby's legs, Bobby's very heavy legs, and raised them on the couch, thanking the fact that she had a big living room and she had chosen a very big couch. She stopped when Boby mumbled something but when the words stopped and the light snoring resumed she completed her action and left the room to pick a blanket from her closet. After having covered Bobby's slightly huddled figure with it, she knelt in front of him and studied him for some time. Jack was right. Again. Bobby was fragile even if his appearance and his behaviour kept telling the opposite. Jack's conditions, the worry and the unjustified guilt were clearly tearing him apart and she couldn't stay still and watch him destroy himself. Non only because she had promised Jack to take care of their beloved Aussie but because she... because she loved him. There. She had said it out loud. In her mind. Well, it was progress anyway compared to the previous year or even the previous week.  
With a soft sigh she brushed aside a lock of hair from his face and got up. She looked down startled when Bobby's hand came up from under the covers and grabbed her wrist.

"Thank you, Tara." He whispered, squeezing lightly her hand.

"You're welcome." She whispered back, returning the gesture. "Sweet dreams." She added when he let her go but Bobby was already asleep.


	23. Chapter 23

_A/N: Thank you for your kind words. So, new chapter and it's about Jack and Sue. Am I forgiven? _

* * *

"You don't have to stay, you know?" Jack asked Sue once Tara had practically dragged Bobby out of the room.

"I know but I want to." Sue replied softly. "With the case and all I didn't have many occasions to come and visit you. I was feeling a little left out. How's your mother?"

"_Ouch!_" It was elegant and he had absolutely deserved it but... ouch! How could she be so adorable while delivering such a fatal blow was beyond him.

"She's hanging on." He answered in a sad voice. "Look, I know you feel betrayed because I didn't tell you about her but... telling someone else what was happening meant accepting it. And I wasn't ready. I'm still not ready." His voice cracked a little in the end but he didn't care. It's not like Sue could notice it. The tears welling up in his eyes on the other hand... He cleared his throat and looked away to try and control his emotions. When he looked towards his friend, Sue's expression betrayed nothing but compassion and understanding. He really didn't deserve her. "I'm sorry I hurt you. That was never my intention."

"I know and I understand." She assured him, resting a hand on his arm. "And you? How are you?" She asked softly.

Jack pondered the question for a while. The question was an easy one and the answer should have been just as easy. Part of him wanted to tell her that he was fine, that he would overcome this without any problem, that life had thrown at him more difficult challenges than this. The other part wanted to yell that heck! he wasn't fine, that he was far from fine, that he was paralyzed and petrified and that he really didn't know what to do now because he felt a little lost and the one who had been his anchor for all his life was dying in a hospital bed at more than 900 miles from him. He wanted... he was... he just...

"I don't know." He confessed, sighing heavily. "I feel like I'm on some kind of roller-coaster right now. Up and down, up and down. Good day and bad day. Good hour and bad hour. Good thoughts and bad thoughts." He shrugged, lowering his gaze on the blanket and the hands that were wrinkling it.

"And what is today? Good day or bad day?"

He observed her for a long time, studying her features and risking a glance into her kind eyes.

"Not bad." He confessed with a small smile. "And now that I have a prettier face to watch than Bobby's my day has brightened considerably." He added.

Ookaay. Had he just flirted with Sue? It had to be a side effect of the drugs the doctors were pumping him full of. He was her team leader! He should be more professional, more... Oh, but she was cute when she was embarrassed!  
Anyway...

"The doctor said that I'll be out of this hospital in a little more than a week. Then I'll go home for a little while... you know, to stay with my mom..." He shrugged. "She wants me there, probably to make sure that I keep my part of the deal."

"What deal?"

"Me and my mom... we made a deal. Well, she proposed it and I accepted it. Like I had any chance to refuse." At that he rolled his eyes dramatically then grinned at Sue's smile.

"What's the deal about?" Sue pressed and regretted it instantly because the grin disappeared on Jack's face to be replaced by a sad expression.

"She promised not to give up if I promised to do the same. So, here I am, eager to start the physiotherapy and show her that I'm fighting, that she can be proud of me as I am proud of her. She's the strongest person I've ever known." Jack closed his eyes to prevent the tears from flowing freely on his face and cleared his throat. "You are a lot like her." He added then softly, reopening his eyes and resting his gaze for a moment on her serious face.

"Jack... I..."

"I'm sorry. I'm sure I'm boring you to death. I guess it's not such a good day, after all. If you want to go I understand. I..."

"I don't want to go." Sue said quickly, before he could throw her out of the room.

"Why?" He asked softly. "I'm a depressing company and I'm blubbering about my mom!"

"Because you're my friend. Because you're hurting and trusting me with the feelings you have for the person probably closest to your heart. Believe me. There's no other place I'd like to be. Besides, I'd like to know more about your mom."

"Maybe you could keep me and Bobby company when I'll go home. You could help me to make sure my mom doesn't spoil Bobby too much. She has a soft spot for Crash. Always had." He said with the ghost of a smile and a hopeful expression on his face.

"I'd love to. If she'll be up to visitors..." Sue assured.

"Oh, don't worry. She loves receiving visits. I'm sure she'll gang up with you against me after a couple of minutes from our arrival like she does with every new person I bring home. She did it with Ally, with my best friend in high school, with my college buddies, even with Wes! Her favourite ally, though, is Crash. Those two together can be dangerous."

"So, you want me there as a bodyguard, to protect you from them." Sue smiled.

"Let's just say I wouldn't mind an ally." He said, trying to match her smile. Not quite there but he was making progress.

"And how can you be so sure that I'll choose your side?" She asked, a serious expression on her face.

He observed her for a moment, studying her serious face and her twinkling eyes.

"Oooh. You're good. I was nearly falling for it."

"What? What are you talking about?"

"You won't choose their side." He declared.

"How can you be so sure?" She repeated.

"Because you believe in justice and you couldn't stand such an unequal situation. Three against one? Nah. You're too honest, too kind-hearted."

"Do you really think that I'll choose your side for a couple of compliments?" She asked, not able to hide her amusement anymore.

"I can be very persuasive." He commented with a smile. It wasn't wide, it wasn't as brilliant and as mischievous as it used to be. It was there, though.

Yep. A good day.


	24. Chapter 24

_A/N: Thank you for your kind reviews, people. They make my day! WARNING: Jack angst. A little more patience for J/S fuzzies..._

_

* * *

_

It had been even worse than he had imagined.  
At the beginning it hadn't been that bad. The physiotherapist, Manny, was a friendly guy, he had had the change of scenery he craved and, the most important thing of all, he had switched that indecent hospital gown with a pair of shorts and a t-shirt. Not exactly trendy but at least all his more… private parts were private again! Obviously, the joy for having had back his privacy, albeit temporarily, had been dampened by the realization that he had needed help from Manny to put the clothes on. He had put aside the following thoughts almost immediately wanting, needing to stay optimistic, knowing that he was going to need an upbeat attitude if he wanted to go through the successive couple of hours.  
The physiotherapy in itself had gone well. For the first five minutes.  
Manny had given him a couple of dumbbells. "To strengthen your upper body." He had said. He was perfectly ok with that. It was something familiar to him. Something easy. Something normal. So, he had started the exercises Manny had told him to do with all the enthusiasm he could muster. And he had stopped immediately with a gasp. He had almost laughed out loud. He had forgotten! In his eagerness to start the physiotherapy and show some improvement so that he could be released soon he had forgotten he had two holes, two very painful holes, in his chest! At the questioning expression on Manny's face he had gritted his teeth and had resumed the exercises. It hadn't been the first time he had to train with some injury. So, the first part of the physiotherapy had been familiar; it had been normal; but not easy. Absolutely not easy. Ironically, though, the second part of the physiotherapy had been a lot less painful but unbelievably harder. Because no amount of sharp pain or dull ache, of constant throbbing or occasional twinges could have hurt more than the moment Manny had raised his left leg and pushed it against his chest and he had felt. Absolutely. Nothing. No cramps, no stiffness, no pain. No muscles, no bones, no skin. Nothing. Jack's eyes had then flew to his hips and legs, to Manny's hands and his concentrated expression and then again to his hips and legs because no way was that leg attached to those hips. No. Way. But it was. As was the other leg. He had slammed his eyes shut then because if he couldn't feel them and couldn't see them then he could pretend that there wasn't a man who was grabbing his legs – gently? roughly? He couldn't tell – and moving them – up or down? right or left?. He couldn't, though. Not even this reprieve had been allowed him. The strain on his chest and abdomen, the pull where the stitches were keeping together his damaged muscles and skin were a constant reminder that his body was indeed moving. Sort of. He hadn't even tried to wipe the tears that had started pooling on the bed on either side of his face and he had mentally patted Manny's shoulder for having ignored those tears and the occasional muffled sobs he had not managed to stop from exploding in his chest. Then he had been too tired, too spent to care much about what Manny was saying and showing, something about levers and how to ease himself on or off the wheelchair. Manny had been understanding and Jack had been grateful.  
So, now he was again on his bed, again with his indecent hospital gown on, again under those barely white tiles covering the ceiling, again staring blankly at the window from where he could see, well not much being on the fourth floor. Not good. Too much time to kill. Too much time without anything to do but think. And he really didn't want his thoughts for company right now. Like his legs, they too seemed to belong to someone else. Someone he didn't like that much.  
He started then chuckled bitterly when the phone rang. He was already too wrapped up in himself, it seemed. Again, not good.

"_Hello? … Hi, mom… __No, mom. I'm fine. Just a little tired… How are you?… Did you have therapy today?… Yeah. Physiotherapy went well… A little hard, maybe… Mom? Are you ok?… Mom!…Dad? How's mom? What's happening? Tell me what's happening, dad!… Just a little nausea? Just a little…never mind, dad. How's she now?… No, let her rest… Give her a kiss for me… Yeah, I'll call you later._"

The phone weighed a ton in his hand and he let the arm fall heavily on the bed beside his thigh, tilting his head back on the pillow and closing his eyes. Just to reopen them a moment later and hurl the phone across the room with a frustrated cry. Missing Bobby's face by mere inches.

"Uh. If it isn't a good moment I can come back later." Bobby proposed, trying to erase the shock from his face. It was unbelievably easy. It sufficed to see Jack's expression, his eyes.

"Yeah. Probably it would be better." Jack confirmed in a hoarse voice.

"Probably." Bobby conceded with a small nod. Then he stepped fully in the room." You know, Sparky. Even if you hit me with an anvil square in the face I'd still be the good-looking one between us."

"You wish." Jack replied, an automatic response to his friend's banter.

"If you don't believe me I can call one of the nurses and ask…" Bobby proposed, gesturing towards the door.

"Well, I'm sure Rufus there will find you handsome." Jack replied.

"Funny! You're a comedian, Sparky. You won't be able to distract me, though. I'm going to call that cute nurse there, Jenny I think, and ask HER who is sexier between us."

"Go, if you want. But then don't come here crying like a baby because she likes me better."

"Now I know I have to call her. I'm worried for you. You're plain delusional, mate." Bobby exclaimed, an expression of mock alarm on his face that he forced himself not to soften when Jack chuckled softly.

"You're hopeless." Jack said, shaking his head with a small smile on his face. Very small. Almost non-existent. Almost.

"Probably." Bobby conceded.


	25. Chapter 25

_A/N: Sorry if I don't reply to all your reviews individually. I swear I read each one of them and I assure you that they mean the world to me. Unfortunately, though, I'll be jobless within the month so I'm quite focused on looking for a new job while studying and working (until they throw me out). I want you to know, though, that I am very grateful for your kind words. On with the story. Next chapter: hopefully on Sunday. Otherwise on Monday. Some fuzzies there. Promise!_

_

* * *

_

"Still nothing on Capono?" Myles asked D when he saw him enter the bullpen.

"Nothing. He's doing his job as always. No strange phone calls, at least not at work. No unplanned trips. Nothing. If I weren't so sure that he's the one behind that shoot-out I'd say we're after the wrong man. Which is more or less what the AD told me this morning during our brief meeting. He used more words and more diplomacy but I got the gist of his little speech."

"Did he tell you to back off?" Myles asked again, hoping in a negative answer. He didn't want D to have to choose between Jack and his career. He had no doubt about the choice his friend would take but it wasn't right on him and his family.

"No. Not yet, at least." D replied. "He gave us this week to bring him something more substantial than our theories. For this reason I asked my friends in Alaska to put Capono's private phone and his house under surveillance."

"I can't believe the AD agreed on this." Tara exclaimed.

"He didn't." D replied simply.

"You're risking too much." Lucy protested. "You have to think about Donna and your kids. If something goes wrong you could lose your job."

"Donna agrees with me. And the kids… I'm thinking especially about them. I don't think they'd be too happy to know that their father chose the convenient way over the right one." D assured with a proud smile.

"The judge won't accept those recordings as evidence, you know it." Myles observed.

"It doesn't matter. For the moment we just need to prove to the AD that Capono tried to kill Jack and Bobby."

"Are you sure that your friends will agree to this?" Tara asked again.

"I already spoke with them and they're ok with it. They aren't exactly fans of our guy and they don't want to keep working beside someone who could try to kill them if they say the wrong thing."

The discussion was interrupted by the arrival of a subdued and thoughtful Bobby.

"Good morning." The Australian mumbled, a cup of hot coffee between his hands.

"How's Jack?" Sue asked, blushing slightly when all eyes turned on her. Apparently, they had noticed she had not spoken up till that moment.

Bobby raised his eyes at the question and rested them on each one of his colleagues in turn, stopping at Sue's face. He could tell them the truth, they deserved it. They were loyal friends clearly worried sick for their team leader, their faces showing the toll this whole thing was taking on them. He wanted to tell them the truth, that Jack was a wreck, that he was suffering too much. He could tell them so that he could share with willing shoulders the weight of keeping Jack together. He couldn't, though. He couldn't reveal Jack's secrets, his weaknesses. Jack wouldn't want it. So much had already been taken away from him and Bobby had a feeling that Jack would lose a lot more in the following weeks. He deserved his privacy, that little he had managed to keep. He deserved his will to be respected. He deserved to choose who trust with his pain. That was exactly what made shouldering Jack's sorrow such a bittersweet task. Seeing his friend suffering was killing him but he was honoured to be the one Jack had put his trust on.  
Now, what should he do?

"Rough morning." He answered, opting for an edited truth. "He was better when I left him, though."

"Do you think we should tell him that his plan about the nurse has failed? No one tried to contact him." D asked, worried for his friend's mood.

"I don't think it's a wise idea right now, D. He has a lot to deal with as it is." The Australian answered. "_And I don't think he could care less about that man or the case now_" He added in his mind. He couldn't tell them this, though, without alarming them of Jack's real conditions.

"The AD asked me to bring that fake nurse… what's his name?"

"Curtis." Lucy supplied.

"Right. The AD wants Curtis in jail within the week." D explained.

"This means two more days." Myles commented. "I say we give Jack's plan this couple of days to work. Then, if nothing happens, we do as the AD said."

Bobby studied subtly his colleague. What was happening to Leland? He had never EVER defended Jack's ideas and Jack himself with such strength. After a moment though, Bobby decided that it didn't really matter. The more the merrier.

"I'm with you, mate." Bobby agreed.


	26. Chapter 26

_A/N. Thank you for your kind words. A short chapter because I don't want want to spoil the fuzzies (a hint of fuzzies, really) of this snippet with the angst of the next chapter. Next update on Tuesday._

_

* * *

_

"Are you ok?" Lucy asked, looking at the man strolling beside her.

"Yes. I was just thinking." Myles answered, glancing briefly at the rotor.

"About what?"

"About the case, about Jack…" He shrugged.

"Jack? A woman could be jealous, you know?" Lucy smiled softly, squeezing briefly Myles' arm where her hand was resting. Her smile widened when he chuckled and stopped in the middle of the sidewalk bringing Lucy to rest intimately against his body. He kissed her lips playfully once, twice, three times. Then he framed her face with his hands and kissed her reverently on her soft lips.

"Thank you." He whispered in her ear then kissed her softly again. Then he took her hand and placed it again on his arm and resumed their stroll.

"So, what about Jack and the case?" Lucy asked after a couple of minutes during which she had worked hard on calming her racing heart and finding again the ability to form coherent thoughts. Who was this man and what had he done with Myles Leland the Third?

Myles chuckled and shook his head. Soon, though, his expression sobered and his shoulders slumped slightly.

"Myles?" Lucy queried. This time it was her who stopped their walk. Grasping one of his hands in hers she guided him to the nearest bench and sat down on it, bringing Myles with her. "Myles? Talk to me." She pleaded, her eyes searching his and their knees touching.

"This case… It's going nowhere. I was so sure that Beth was going to confess everything! Instead, she only took the responsibility of her actions. Even after we told her what Capono was up to she kept quiet and protected him!" The frustration was evident in his voice and Lucy put a hand on one of his knees.

"She loves him." She said simply.

"Are you defending her?" Myles snapped, an incredulous look on his face.

"No." Lucy answered patiently. "I'm just saying that sometimes love can make you do some very stupid things. At the moment she can't see Tony's mistakes but I'm sure you guys will be able to open her eyes." She assured.

"In the meantime, though, I … We're doing nothing for Jack!"

"Is it this why you're so upset? You think you're not doing enough for Jack?"

"I said we." Myles protested feebly.

"You did but I know you. How can you think something so stupid? You're helping Jack in so many ways! The case has a direction thanks to you. Some of the ones who are liable for Jack's troubles have been found and punished thanks to you. You're paying for Jack's hospital expenses and I'm sure he won't ever know about your help. Myles? Why are you doing all these things?" She asked softly, already knowing the answer.

Myles took his time, keeping his eyes on everything but Lucy.

"Myles?" Lucy pressed.

"Because I won't ever be Jack's confidant. Because I won't be the one to keep him together or the one to pick up the pieces if he should break down. And all this is perfectly fine with me. I don't do feelings very well, as you know. I wanted to be there for him somehow, though. You all have been patient with me, you didn't given up on me even when you had the chance..."

"Wait." Lucy interrupted him. "What are you talking about?"

"Two years ago… remember that case where I… screwed up, for lack of a better term, because I let my prejudices lead me on the investigation… nearly getting Jack killed in the process?" He waited for Lucy's tiny nod to continue. "Well, I've recently been informed that the previous AD had suggested Jack to report me promising that he would have personally made sure I ended up in some tiny office of some even tinier town."

"And?"

"And, well… I'm still here. Jack defended me, telling the AD that I made a mistake but that he was sure that I wouldn't repeat it. Or so I was told."

"And you didn't." Lucy pointed out. "So, now you feel like you owe him?"

"I do owe him." Myles clarified.

"Because he saved your career?" Lucy asked, again already knowing the answer but feeling the need to prolong this rare moment of complete sincerity as long as possible, for both their sakes.

"No. Because he gave me a second chance. Because he believed in me. Now it's my turn to believe in him and I'll do everything I possibly can to give him at least a chance to fight."

Lucy kept staring at his face, mesmerized by the passion and determination she could see in his eyes.

"You're a good man, Myles Leland." Lucy whispered finally, getting up and pulling Myles to his feet. "With a big heart." She added, patting gently his chest tight above the organ in question and drawing closer to him. She could relate to his feeling of helplessness. She too wanted to help Jack somehow but she really didn't have a clue about how to do it. For the moment, the only thing she could do for Jack was to keep an eye on his team. Then when he was better she could cook him all his favourite dishes, tons and tons of apple pie. That man was already too skinny after less than a couple of weeks in a hospital bed. First things first, though. "And you're rich. What more a girl could ask for?" She asked with a mischievous smile and twinkling eyes just before giving him a quick peck on the mouth and grasping one of his hands in hers to drag the man to his car. She had a dinner to cook and a man to cheer up.


	27. Chapter 27

_A/N: Thank you for your kind reviews. They bring a smile to my face. Sometimes a little goofy..._

* * *

Sue kept walking through the park to give Levi a couple more minutes of freedom. Not that she had somewhere to go or someone to go to. Lucy had been organizing her dinner with Myles for the most part of the afternoon and Sue had no intention of being the notorious squeaky third wheel. What she really wanted was to go to Jack but Bobby had made abundantly clear that it probably wasn't a good idea. He hadn't gone into details but had clearly told that Jack didn't want to see anyone. She really needed to go visit Jack, though. She hadn't talked to him since the day before and she missed his face, even pale and suffering as it was. She had to see him. She had to see for herself that Jack was really going to be fine as Bobby had hastened to assure after his bleak announcement. Maybe Jack had changed his mind and now he needed someone to talk to. Maybe she could be a little bit useful. Maybe Jack would open up to her. They had always shared some kind of connection, after all. Maybe she could help Jack to unload all the emotions bottling up inside him. Maybe she…

"Levi!" She called and patted the soft head of the dog when it stopped beside her, its expressive eyes fixed on her face with an almost human expression of understanding.  
Half an hour later she was ready to knock on the door of Jack's room, glad that - thanks to the private room and Jack's particular position – all his colleagues could visit anytime without restrictions.

D opened the door with a puzzled expression on his tired face.

"Sue? What are you doing here?"

"I wanted to visit Jack. Is he sleeping?"

"No, but he still isn't talking to anyone." D informed her. Sue just shrugged. "I warned you. I'll go grab a coffee then I'll wait just outside the door. If you need anything just holler."

Sue waited for D to exit the room then, bracing herself for what she would find inside the room, she stepped in.

"Hi, Jack." She said with as cheerful a voice as she could muster.

"Hi, Sue." Jack whispered.

Sue couldn't hide the surprised expression on her face. Apparently she was right and he had changed his mind.

"I don't want to talk." He announced. "I'd like to be left alone." He added.

Ok. Maybe he hadn't exactly changed his mind. He was just being polite.

"Fine. I don't feel particularly chatty either." She replied, sitting on the chair beside Jack's bed.

They spent the next few minutes in silence until Sue couldn't bear it anymore. It wasn't the silence that was troubling her. She had lived her whole life in silence. It was the lost expression on Jack's face, the sorrow in his eyes, the defeat in his slumped shoulders.  
She pulled the chair so that it touched the bed and took Jack's hand in hers, startling Jack who raised wide eyes to her face just to lower them back on his lap a moment later.

"Jack, you know I'm here if you need to talk."

He just nodded.

"If you need something, anything... I'll always be there for you. Jack, I..."

"Sue." Jack interrupted her, freeing his hand form her grasp. "I appreciate your offer but I don't want to talk to anyone. I don't _need_ to talk to anyone, you included. I'm sorry you came all the way here for nothing but I feel tired and I just want to sleep."

Sue tried not to show how much Jack's brusque dismissal had surprised and hurt her but her attempts failed miserably. Not that Jack would have noticed. He wasn't watching her. Better still, he was deliberately avoiding her face and had been doing it since she had entered the room. The message was clear. He didn't want her there. She swallowed a couple of times and nodded. Not that he could see her.

"Okay. I'll leave you alone. Goodnight, Jack." She said, hoping that her voice had sounded as strong as she had willed her to but doubting it. Then she walked out of the room, not glancing back, not hearing the whispered apologies.

###

Outside the room she forced a smile on her face for D's benefit and nodded in his direction then walked away. She really didn't want to talk to anyone right now. Ironic, really.  
She exited the hospital with a resolute stride, the need to put some distance between herself and that place overwhelming.  
She was angry. At Jack, for the way he had treated her, and for someone who didn't want to hurt her he sure managed to do that a lot. At Capono, for what he had done to Jack, to them all. At Johnston, for being a criminal and an instrument in Capono's hands.  
She was disappointed. In herself. For having surrendered so easily to Jack's request, for having let him have his way when she knew that silence and solitude were the last things Jack really needed, for not having stayed and taken everything Jack would have thrown, metaphorically and literally, at her like Bobby was doing, like Jack would have done if their roles were reversed.  
She was worried. For Jack. The man in that hospital bed wasn't her Jack, the Jack she knew and lo... the Jack she knew. And she was terrified that he would never be that Jack again. Not that she could blame him. One minute he was a successful FBI agent leading an action and with a brilliant career in front of him, the next he was a broken man who had to face the very real possibility of living the rest of his life in a wheelchair. She couldn't imagine what Jack was going through. True, she had lost her hearing, she had lost a part of herself but she was just a kid at the time and had grown up not knowing the difference between her old "normal" life and her new silent one. Sure, growing up she had wished she could have her hearing back just to hear the soft tones of her parents' voices when they comforted her, to hear the happy laughter of her brothers, to hear how her name sounded on the lips of her first boyfriend... but all in all she had managed to transform her weakness in her strength. The loss of her hearing had been a challenge to prove herself to the world, to her parents, to herself, not the end of the world. Instead, Jack's world had crumbled at the doctor's words, the desperation clear in his eyes. Again, she couldn't blame him. She knew his life had't ended with that shoot-out, with those words and she knew that Jack knew it too. There was a chasm, though, between knowing it and acknowledging it.  
A tug on the leash brought her walking and her musings to a stop.

"What is it, Levi?" She asked, taking a couple of steps back and kneeling in front of her sitting dog.

Levi barked once, put a paw on her knee and tilted its head back. Sue followed its gaze, puzzled by its behaviour... and found herself facing a very familiar building.

###

Sue debated for a couple of minutes whether going in or not, playing with the keys in her pocket with one hand and stroking Levi's soft head with the other, then she sighed deeply and entered the building. She strode purposefully to the elevator then to the door of the apartment. Jack's apartment. She hesitated only a moment in front of the closed door then she inserted the keys in the lock and entered.  
She walked slowly through each room, fingering the frames on the walls: shots of Jack with his family, with his friends, with his colleagues. In each one Jack was smiling, watching right in the camera, his presence solid, vibrant, full of life. A sudden memory of Jack's dull eyes that evening had Sue swallowing a sob.  
She left the living room and entered Jack's bedroom, sitting on his bed and picking up the frame from the bedside table. He was smiling at her in that picture while dancing with her, his expression mischievious and his eyes sparkling. That had been a moment when she had wished to be able to hear, just to know how his laughter, his teasing tone sounded. Today she was grateful she could not hear his voice. She didn't want to know whether those words at the hospital had been uttered with annoyance or anger. She looked again at the photograph. Maybe, there had been regret in his voice...  
This time she let the sob break out of her chest, she let the tears fall down her cheeks and land on the picture. Suddenly feeling exhausted, Sue laid on her side on the bed, the photo clutched to her chest and her legs slightly bent. The pillow had Jack's scent. She closed her eyes and burrowed her face further in the pillow, inhaling deeply. And let the tears wet the soft surface under her head.


	28. Chapter 28

_A/N: As always, thank you for your kind reviews. They make me blush! At work! Oh, dear..._

* * *

Bobby blinked a couple of times, his still tired brain and body struggling to wake up. The alarm went off again, startling the Australian who groaned loudly wondering, not for the first time, why the time always seemed to speed up in the morning.  
With a deep sigh he got up and went to the kitchen for a cup of coffee. A huge cup of coffee. He really, REALLY, didn't want to go to work today. He just wanted to sleep for a week and forget everything that had happened in the last days. Well, not everything… The dinner at Tara's was a wonderful memory he promised himself to treasure until his last breath. Speaking of Tara… he had to get to work in order to see her. With another sigh, much shorter and less suffering than the first, Bobby hastened to drink his coffee, grunting when he scalded himself, and then went to the bathroom.  
Tara. Work. Clothes. Shower. Better if not exactly in that order, probably.

Tara turned around in her bed and her arm, reaching for the other side of the bed, fell with a thud on the mattress when it met only air. The soft noise and the unexpected contact with the bed woke her up. She lazily rubbed the sleep off her eyes then blinked them open. She had had a wonderful dream, a very pleasant dream that had put a smile on her face throughout the night but that had left her with a longing such as she had never felt before. Suddenly she felt alone, so very very alone. Although she knew this loneliness and it was, sadly, something familiar to her, now it felt almost unbearable. Just before the all too familiar morose thoughts entered her brain and festered, images of her recent evening with Bobby brought again a tiny smile to her face, the remembrance of that kiss the night of the Mojo Gogo's concert brought a hand to her lips, the feeling of his fingertips tickling mercilessly her body elicited a giggle and the memory of Bobby's body pressed to hers, even if only in much needed sleep, stopped her breathing for a moment.  
She had to see Bobby. Right. Now.

D rubbed his eyes tiredly then yawned so widely that his jaw popped. He shook his head and got up. Reaching the window, he glanced once at the sleeping form on the bed then let his gaze wander over the few cars and passers-by milling around the streets at this ungodly hour. Another hour and Myles would take over his vigil. Another hour and he could go back home, kiss good morning his sleeping children, wake up Donna to let her know that everything had gone well and then wrap himself around her body and finally, FINALLY, fall asleep. He would probably wake up again a couple of hours later when Donna got up to start her and their children's day but he was sure he would fall asleep again moments later as he was sure that his sleep wouldn't be as restful as it was when his wife was beside him. It never was.  
A soft knock on the door startled him from his thoughts. Then three other soft knocks in quick succession brought a smile to his tired face. Aaah! Coffee! He had to get Simmons a promotion. Would "he brought me coffee every time I needed it without me saying anything" be considered an acceptable reason for a promotion? Somehow he doubted it but he could try. He owed that man. Big time.  
Fifty-five minutes and then home.

Myles groaned and reached for the cell to turn the alarm off before it woke Lucy up. Mission accomplished, he stayed still for a minute just to watch Lucy sleeping beside him, her beautiful face resting on his chest and partially covered by the dark waves of her hair, her expression serene, almost content. He didn't want to get up even if the couch wasn't exactly comfortable. The feeling of Lucy's body pressed into his, though, was comforting and the sound of her deep breathing…calming. Yes. He could get used to wake up like this. He felt happy for the first time in a long time. He felt complete. Myles flinched at how corny his thoughts sounded but then, who cared? It's not like he was going around shouting those thoughts out loud. And he never would. Just like he would never admit, to anyone, that he was scared to death to do something wrong again, to hurt Lucy again and lose her for good.  
A glance to the clock and he sighed. He had to get up. D was awaiting him at the hospital in fifty minutes.

Myles tried to get up without disturbing Lucy but she stirred and woke up anyway. She didn't even have the time to open her eyes that she felt her face framed by two big hands and her forehead kissed by soft lips.

"Go back to sleep. It's still early." Myles murmured in a soft voice.

She sighed and tried to make herself comfortable on the couch, managing to find a good position but groaning her displeasure at having her soft and warm pillow removed. In her semi-conscious state her mind wandered back to the evening before. The dinner had gone without a glitch and they had talked companionably for most of the evening. Then, a soft touch here, a murmured word there, and they had found themselves tangled in each other, making out on the couch like two teenagers. She almost giggled out loud at the thought but her body warmed at the memory of the intensity of Myles' gaze while he kissed her hungrily on every inch of skin left exposed by her clothes, of his hands roaming her frame, of his deep groans every time she kissed or nipped one of his most sensitive areas. She still didn't know how but they had stopped before completely undress each other, both afraid to rush things and destroy the fragile balance they had just found again. They had then laid still on the couch to calm their racing hearts and evidently fallen asleep. She could get used to this. She wanted to get used to this.  
Sighing softly again she let the sounds of Myles moving around the house lull her to sleep.

The sun filtering through the windows travelled up Sue's curled body until it hit her in the face, effectively waking her up. She rubbed her eyes with the back of her right hand, her left hand clutching something to her chest. Disoriented, she looked around trying to understand where she was. Jack's room. She had fallen asleep in Jack's bed the night before. A dull ache started in her chest and spread upwards until it lodged in her throat. She swallowed hard while the memory of the past evening hit her full force but she shook her head and closed tightly her eyes. Now was not the time to cry. She had already wasted enough time pitying herself and accusing Jack of being insensitive and mean. And what did she get from her pity party? Just puffy eyes and a killer headache. No. Now was the time to react. She had to go back to Jack and make him understand that she was there for the long haul. And if he was stubborn… well, she could be stubborn too. Just ask her mother.  
First, though, a shower, a change of clothes and new make-up. If he had intentionally been mean the night before then she didn't want to give him the satisfaction to see how much his words and behaviour had affected her; if he had just been confused and hurting, then she really didn't want him to feel guilty for something she would soon forget. Yeah, right.

Jack woke up with a start, gasping for air and sitting upright in a sudden motion that had him doubled over in pain, clutching his chest and groaning. A hand rested heavily on his shoulder.

"Are you ok?" D asked in a concerned tone.

Jack only managed to nod, unable to talk without groaning and unwilling to open his eyes to a room that he was sure would be spinning furiously. D helped him settle himself again in the bed then sat on the easy-chair near the bed.

"Thanks." Jack whispered, his breathing still laboured.

"You're welcome." D replied. "Jack, are you ok? What happened? Was it a nightmare?"

"Uh… I guess…"

"You guess what? That you're ok or that it was a nightmare?"

"Both."

"Do you want me to call a nurse?" D offered, puzzled by his friend's answers.

"No, no. I'm fine. Just sore but it'll pass soon."

"So, what the nightmare was about?" D asked.

"I don't know." Jack answered then, seeing the doubt on the other man's face, he raised a hand. "I really don't know, D. Believe me. I don't remember it. I can just suppose it wasn't something pleasant."

"Which is hardly surprising." D commented, accepting Jack's words. "Are you sure you're ok?"

"Yes. I'm fine, D. Don't worry."

"Okay. So, if you're fine then you can answer a question."

"Sure. Shoot."

"What happened yesterday with Sue? When she left your room she looked upset but doing her best not to showing it."

"She looked upset?"

D just nodded and noticed regret settle in Jack's expression.

"Uh… I…" Jack stammered. How could he explain? He himself didn't know why he had reacted that way. He just was suffering so much right then that he knew that if someone had shown compassion and understanding he would have broken down right there and then. And he didn't want to cry because he was afraid that if he started he wouldn't be able to stop. And then, what crying would solve? It would just give him a headache and those around him would feel guilty or helpless. Or probably both, knowing his friends. He had to be strong if he wanted to keep it together and Sue… well, Sue was his biggest weakness.

"Jack?" D pressed, seeing his friend staring into nothingness.

The ringing of the phone interrupted the exchange.

"Saved by the bell." Jack murmured before answering. "_Hello? … Dad? How's mom? Why are you calling at this hour? … That's good news … Yeah? … Good… What? … Yeah, I know that name. Why?… Yes, we worked together a couple of times … I see … Yes, yes, it's been very kind of him ... No, no. I'll thank him personally … Yes, dad. I'm fine … I'll call you later. Bye, dad._"

"What happened?" D asked, concerned by the paleness of Jack's face and by the expression of pure hatred on it.

"My mother has been moved to a regular room and tomorrow will probably be sent home."

"That's good news." D commented with a relieved smile. "But?"

"She received a bouquet of flowers, monkshoods and oleanders it seems, by a friend of mine…"

"Who?"

"Tony Capono."


	29. Chapter 29

_Sorry for the delay in posting but my pc at home doesn't work so I had to wait to come to work to post... For the first time in my whole life I was eager to go to work on Monday..._  
_Hoping in your forgiveness I'm posting two chapters at once... I bank on your love for fuzzies..._  
_Thank you for your words. They brighten a sombre period of my life._

_

* * *

_

"I want that man in jail. Yesterday." Jack ordered.

"Jack, I…" D tried.

"He threatened my family!" Jack shouted, frustrated.

"Jack, we can hardly arrest him for sending a bouquet of flowers to a sick person." D said calmly, trying to placate his, reasonably, irate agent. "A bunch of flowers can't be considered a threat."

"Yes, it can." Tara piped in, meeting defiantly D's glare that clearly said she wasn't helping very much.

"Jack, I promi…"

"How's that?" Bobby asked Tara, earning himself an exasperated glare from D who was a second away from firing the whole team so that he could go home. It's not that he didn't agree with Jack, because he did, but they had to thread carefully with this case because the AD wasn't a patient man and… what had Tara just said?

"Come again?" D asked the blonde computer expert.

"I said that I've checked what those flowers mean because, let's face it, they aren't your typical get well gift, and I've found out that the monkshood, which by the way is a poisonous herb, means that a deadly foe is near and the oleander means caution. So, we can consider those flowers a threat." Tara concluded.

"Uh." It was the most his tired brain could come up with and anyway D let himself be distracted by the proud and beaming expression on Bobby's face. What? Oh no, no, no, no. NO! It couldn't be. He really didn't need a relationship between colleagues in his team to add to this thorny situation. The AD was already all over their case. Man, he felt tired! However, no rest for the wicked, right? So, back to the case and to Tara. Who was right. Those flowers were a threat. Would the AD see it that way too, though? Why hadn't he left a couple of years ago when he had had the opportunity? His life would have been so much simpler if only he had accepted that job as a security guard! Looking at the expectant expressions on the five faces in front of him he knew the reason behind his decision. And he hadn't regretted his decision once in all this time. Well, maybe right now he might…  
"I'll try to convince the AD but I can't promise anything. In the meantime, as I've been trying to say for the last twenty minutes, I'll put your family under protection."

"Thanks, D." Jack said sincerely.

"Ladies and gentlemen, I bring good news!" Myles announced re-entering the room after having left it to take a phone call.

"Well, spill it already Myles. We aren't getting any younger here." Lucy urged when it was clear that the Bostonian had no intention to go on with his announcement, surely for dramatic effect.

"You get prettier every day, though." Myles found himself to say. Oooops! Had he said it out loud? If the sudden silence in the room and the incredulous expression on D's face were any indication then the answer was a big fat yes. Ok. Well… So… He cleared his throat.  
"As I was saying, I bring good news. Capono finally made a mistake! Yesterday evening he phoned our dear Mr. Curtis, wannabe nurse. We have a place and a time for their meeting."

"You mean that _we _have a place and a time for the meeting." D corrected. You'll stay here with Jack."

"Sure." Myles assured without hesitation.

"D, it isn't necessary. Capono will be at that meeting and I have physio in an hour so I'll be safe here." Jack protested.

"Maybe. Or maybe not. I don't want to take any unnecessary risk."

Jack huffed but nodded. Not that he had any other choice.

"Lucy, you go back to the office. We need you there to help us coordinate the operation. Sue, Bobby and Tara. You with me. We have a killer to catch."

###

"Myles, can you leave us alone for a minute?"– Sue asked once the rest of the team had left the room.

"Ehm... sure. I'll go take a coffee."

"Thank you, Myles." Sue said with a smile in his direction then she turned to Jack.

"Sue, I..."

"Jack, be quiet please. Yesterday we did as you liked. Today we do as I say." Sue ordered in a firm voice. Jack nodded with slightly wide eyes before lowering them to his lap. "Look at me, Jack." She ordered again. "Please." She pleaded when he kept staring down.

At that Jack raised his gaze to her face knowing that he couldn't deny her anything on a normal day, let alone after the night before. He didn't know what he expected to see on her face. Anger maybe or sorrow or even disappointment and she had every right to feel each and every one of those feelings. What he did know was that he didn't expect the intensity he could see on her expression nor the fear he could see in her eyes. Fear? Once he raised his gaze to hers he found out that he couldn't look away, that he didn't want to look away.

"I won't say that I know how you feel because I don't. I don't know what is going on in your head, what you are feeling. What I do know is that you're suffering and I want to stay at your side if you'll let me."

"Why?" Jack asked in a whisper.

"Why?" Sue repeated in an incredulous tone. "Why? Because we're friends, because I owe you..."

"You don't owe me anyth..." Jack protested, interrupting her.

Sue sat on the bed beside Jack and put a hand on his lips, effectively shushing him.

"Because I care about you. A lot. Because I... because I think I love you. I... I've been attracted to you since the day we met but in these last three years this attraction changed into admiration then into respect and finally into affection. I love you, Jack. And so that there's no misunderstanding, I don't mean like a brother or a dear friend. I fell in love with you. I..."

She stopped abruptly and leant forward, grabbing Jack's face with both her hands and kissing him passionately on the lips. Albeit stunned Jack reacted quickly, reciprocating the kiss and caressing her neck, her cheeks, her shoulders.  
The kiss ended as abruptly as it had started and Sue opened her eyes to gaze at Jack's face. His cheeks were flushed, his eyes wide and confused, his lips slightly swollen and smeared with lipstick, his hair ruffled by her hands that sometime during the kiss had traveled from his face to his scalp.

"Please, Jack. Don't shut me out. Let me be at your side." She whispered then she caressed his face, swallowing convulsively when he closed his eyes and leant in her touch.

Without giving him any time to answer she got up and walked quickly out of the room and then out of the hospital. She stopped only when she found herself sitting in her car, slightly hyperventilating, her heart hammering in her chest and fear enveloping her. What had she done? It wasn't supposed to go this way. The plan was just to tell him that no matter what he said to her she would stay by his side. She wasn't supposed to say those words, mostly because she didn't even know that those words were in her head, that those feelings were in her heart. She had always refused to acknowledge them, burying them as deeply as she could. Which wasn't that deep apparently. Now she had exposed herself, she had opened up her heart and given it to Jack to do as he liked. Right now he had the power to shatter her or to make her whole. She just hoped Jack realized this.  
Yep. She was truly terrified.


	30. Chapter 30

_A/N: Thank you for your reviews. Now, Jack's reaction..._

* * *

When Myles entered Jack's room he was taken aback by the shocked expression on his friend's face. A moment later Myles couldn't help the smirk which forced its way on his face upon seeing Jack's dishevelled appearance and the lipstick still staining his mouth. The smirk soon changed to chuckle when Jack's eyes kept staring, comically wide open, at the door. The sound of Myles' laughter seemed to bring Jack back to reality and the agent, much to Myles endless amusement, hastened to comb his hair and wipe his mouth with his hands. Myles wished they had placed the video camera in the room as Tara had suggested. He tried to decide whether it was best to just let Jack be or to say something. One look in Jack's direction and he knew what was the right thing to do.

"Must have been an interesting conversation…" The Bostonian commented, his trademark grin in place again.

Ok. Maybe not exactly the right thing to do but surely the more enjoyable. Could Jack's face get any redder?

"I see you and our dear Miss Thomas found a new way to communicate."

Yes. Amazingly, it could.

"And it seems a rather enjoyable method."

WOW. Neck, face, even the tip of his ears were red. Was it possible to reach spontaneous combustion because of too much embarrassment? Maybe he could find out. For the sake of the whole mankind, obviously.

"Do you think you and Miss Thomas will engage soon… in a similar conversation?"

"Myles!" Jack whined. Whined! He looked so miserable that Myles did the only sensible thing he honestly could do. He started laughing.

"Ah, Jack! Sorry, but it was too good an opportunity to let it pass." He commented when the laughter subsided.

The blush was still all over Jack but a tiny smile had appeared on his face. Then the smile disappeared and a panicked expression chased away the embarrassment from his face.

"What?" Myles asked, sobering immediately.

"Tara didn't install that video camera, did she?"

Another bout of laughter erupted from Myles' chest and he had to place a hand on the nearest wall to keep his balance. He could clearly see the irritation creeping up on Jack's face but what could he do? Wanting to be a supportive friend and all he tried to put a stop to his hilarity and by the time a nurse entered the room less than a minute later he had himself under control again. Almost.

"What is happening here, sugar?" The woman asked, fussing around Jack. "The monitors registered a worrying increase in your heart rate a couple of minutes ago. For a moment there I was worried I had to call the resuscitation crew." She added.

Startled when a bark of hysterical laughter erupted from her left, she turned to see the head of her handsome patient hanging dejectedly and the blond man near the wall laughing so hard that he was bent in two at the waist and probably not breathing at all. She hurried at his side to help him calm down when the irritated voice of her patient made her turn around with a disapproving look.

"Let him pass out." Jack snarled.

A new wave of laughter and a solid thump later Myles found himself sitting on the floor, gasping for breath and with tears streaming down the aching muscles of his face, desperately trying to calm down so that he could assure the poor nurse that no, he wasn't dying nor crazy and to thank Jack for the best laughter of… well, probably of his whole life. If Jack didn't kill him before.

###

Saying that he was embarrassed was an understatement. A big understatement. The understatement of the year, really. Right beside "I'm shocked by Sue". Luckily, Manny had come to bring him to physio, an angel in disguise who interrupted the most embarrassing moment of his whole life. He owed him big time. Manny didn't need to know this, though. He owed Myles, too. BIG TIME. In this case, though, he would make sure to let him know exactly how much he owed him with an adequate revenge. Poor guy. He almost pitied him. Almost being the key word there.  
About Sue, though, he really didn't know what to do. Like her, apparently, he had felt the attraction immediately, which was the main reason he had looked for her in the cafeteria. He had liked her spunk and her determination. And obviously the dog with the badge got him curious. Throughout the last three years he had felt something for her growing inside him. He had grown to treasure and crave the moments spent together with her. Was it love? Had he fallen in love with her? Yes. A long time ago. Could he tell her this?  
The answer would have to wait because Manny had just stopped the wheelchair beside some sort of upholstered bench which meant that the physio was going to start. And this time he had every intention to pay attention to what Manny would teach him because he had to go back home and he wanted to be as independent as he could so as not to burden his family too much. They had already enough to worry about without having to care about him for his every necessity.


	31. Chapter 31

_A/N: Thank you for your kind words. I'm glad I made you laugh because Jack has still a lot of angst in his future. Poor guy!_

_

* * *

_

Gosh, he was tired! How could he feel so tired when Manny had done practically all the work, and looked perfectly fine and rested, he really didn't know and truth to be told he didn't even want to think about it too much. He was sure the physio was a good and necessary thing for the body but it killed the soul slowly but surely. Too much time to think. Too easy to see what you've lost. Too hard to see hope when someone else is moving your body, a body you don't feel. At least he now knew how to get off and on of the wheelchair even if he didn't have the strength to do it on his own, yet. Entering the room he sighed in relief when he found it empty. He had a little time to collect himself and then face Myles. A scrap of paper on his pillow informed him that Myles had gone to pick something to eat at the cafeteria of the hospital. He had even written down the time he left the room. How thoughtful of him. Maybe he was afraid of the revenge and was already trying to do damage control. He had always thought Myles was a smart man. He had just turned on the TV to try and annihilate any thought from his mind when there was a knock on the door.

"Come in!" He ordered. Myles had been fast. He had hoped to have at least ten minutes more.

A man who without any doubt wasn't Myles entered the room, a folder in his hands.

"Mr. Hudson? I'm John Anderson, of the insurance division of this hospital."

"Please, have a seat." Jack invited. He had been waiting for this discussion since he had been coherent enough to think that… well, since he had been coherent enough to think. Period. When the man sat on the chair beside the bed Jack raised one hand in mid-air to stop the man from speaking up. "Ehm… I know that my personal insurance can't cover the expenses but I'm a federal agent and the FBI should…"

"No, no, no, Mr. Hudson. There's no problem with the insurance. We've already sorted things out with Mr. Leland. I just need to check a couple of things with you, sir. I would have talked with Mr. Leland but I didn't find him in the room earlier and I need to archive this file within this morning."

"Wait just a moment, Mr. Anderson. Why did you sort things out with Mr. Leland? Couldn't you just wait a couple of days and talk to me? These, as you can understand, are very private matters."

"Yes, I understand sir but since Mr. Leland is already paying for your hospital stay I just thought that he… was…" The man trailed off upon seeing Jack's expression.

"Leland is doing what?" Jack asked, his voice low and his expression livid.

"He… uh… He's paying for your expenses here, sir. I thought you knew it. I…"

"Why? I have the insurance the FBI made me sign."

"No, sir. There was some kind of problem with that insurance so… ehm… I… I should go back to my office now." The man started to get up but the commanding tone in Jack's voice stopped him in his tracks.

"No. You should stay here and explain this situation to me. From the beginning. Now sit down and start talking. You have five minutes." Jack ordered. He was furious. Well, that wasn't true. He was beyond furious.

###

The quick lunch had been awful. The bread was stale, the after-taste of the tuna was a little suspicious and the mayo was a little too yellow but the coffee was strong. Disgusting but strong and that was what Myles really needed. Besides, he couldn't really blame the hospital for trying to keep the incoming of patients steady, now could he? Walking back toward Jack's room his thoughts wandered to his other colleagues. They should have called with news by now. It's not that he was worried. The operation wasn't overly dangerous and he was convinced that theirs was the best team the FBI had to offer. It's just that he was supposed to be there with them, he wasn't used to be separated from his team during an operation, not knowing what was going on. Ok, maybe he was a little worried. For them and, truth to be told, for himself too. Jack's mood had been sour when he had left the room and an improvement during the physio wasn't very likely if he had read correctly Bobby's evasive answer the other day. Maybe, if he was lucky, Jack was too tired form the therapy to be angry with him.

#

No, he wasn't too tired, Myles concluded once in Jack's room. He was still angry. Angrier than before. And he was staring at him with an intensity that, quite frankly, was unnerving. Myles opened the mouth to say something, anything, to break the heavy silence in the room but he closed it again after a moment fearing that he would say something that would cause Jack's imminent explosion. Jack's behaviour was making him feel a little self-conscious and a lot guilty. Disproportionately so. He had hoped there was enough familiarity between them by now for him to joke around a little. With disappointment he was realizing that it wasn't the case.

"I spoke with Mr. Anderson about my insurance." Jack said in a tightly controlled voice.

Oh.

"He explained to me everything."

Uh-oh.  
What should he do now? Joke about it? Downplay his role? Change topic? In the end he didn't' say anything. Really, what could he say? His tendency to put his foot in his mouth was almost legendary and he didn't want to risk to make a fool of himself, even more, or to somehow hurt Jack. So, he stayed silent. It was Jack who broke the silence a couple of minutes later.

"I wanted to thank you for what you did. You didn't have to."

"Jack, I …"

"Let me finish!" Jack ordered sharply. That silenced the Bostonian who fixed a startled gaze on his friend. "I thank you for what you did while I was… incapacitated but now your assistance in that matter isn't required anymore."

"Did they settle the problem with the insurance?" Myles asked, trying not to think too much about the flutter of hurt he had felt at being so coldly dismissed.

"No. I'm signing out AMA." Jack replied, steel in his voice clearly defying anyone to antagonize him. "I'll give you your money back as soon as possible."

"Jack, be reasonable. You need to stay here for at least a couple of days more. You said it yourself. This is a loan. You'll give me the money back. So, what does it matter if you wait another couple of days?" Myles tried to reason, surprised at the pleading tone in his voice. Why should he care about this ungrateful jerk? He did care, though.

"It does matter to me, Myles. When I was unconscious I didn't have a say in anything. Now, though, I'm awake and perfectly reasoning and I can make my own decisions."

"Awake, yes. Reasoning, not so much." Myles commented, unperturbed by the glare Jack was shooting him. "Do you want to do everything your way? Fine, be my guest. I don't care. Just don't let your pride overcome your good sense, if you still have any left. For your sake and for the sake of those fools who love you. I'll be right out of the door. "His speech finished, Myles made an about-face and exited the room with a calmness and a coolness he really didn't feel, ignoring Jack's bark at the phone. Poor Bobby, really.

#

"_Bobby! It's Jack! I need to speak to you. NOW!_ " Jack all but shouted in the phone.

"_Sorry, mate. This isn't a good time. I'll call you back. Bye._"

Jack stared at the phone, not believing that his best friend had just closed the phone in his face.  
He was furious at Myles and at Bobby for the stunt they had pulled, for the way they had treated him, for the way they had conspired together against him behind his back. And he was furious at his situation, at who had caused it, at himself for not having been able to handle things on his own. He was… He was tired. Of everything. He just wanted to close his eyes and forget everything for a couple of blessed hours. He squeezed his eyes shut, ignoring the tears of frustration that were escaping his eyes and wetting the pillow, and willed himself to feel nothing and for sleep to come and hide him for just a little while.


	32. Chapter 32

_A/N: Thank you for your reviews. They warm my heart._

* * *

"He wants to do what?" Bobby all but shouted.

"He wants to sign AMA." The doctor repeated. Was it the second or the third time, already? Did it really matter?

"He can't do this!" Bobby protested.

"Technically, he can. Listen, agent. I've tried to talk him out of this but he's quite set on his decision. Unfortunately, I can't do more. I'd feel better if he stayed at least another week here but he's the only one who can ultimately decide about this."

"He'll change his mind." Bobby assured.

"He. Is. Right. Here!" Jack shouted, his face red and his eyes blazing. The sight would have been fearful if not for the short gasps of air that followed the outburst. "Stop talking about me like I wasn't here. I am here. And I'm awake. I can take decisions by myself. I've been doing it for quite sometime already." The vehemence of his first explosion was gone but the rage was still in his voice and face, for everyone to hear and see.

"Jack, be reasonable." Bobby pleaded, giving his whole attention to his friend and his back to the doctor who took the chance to slip quietly out of the room.

"Don't tell me to be reasonable!" Jack snapped.

"Fine!" Bobby threw his hands in the air in a gesture that betrayed both his frustraton and his exasperation. "Be a four years old then but listen to me!"

He ignored Jack's glare, even if he was sure that he was a second away from being incinerated on the spot, and sat on the chair beside the bed, looking up at Jack's face. Great! Now he was sulking. At least, though, he was silent.

"I know you don't want to stay here. And I know you don't want to owe anyone, not even one of your friends. The truth is, though, that you don't have much of a choice here, mate. If you go out of here where will you go? You could go to a private clinic like the doctor suggested but you can't pay for it. This in itself wouldn't be a problem if not for your pride." He arched an eyebrow at Jack, daring him to deny it. Jack looked away after a couple of silent moments. "You won't stay here for the same reason, apart form the fact that this hospital doesn't treat long-term patients. You can't go home, in Winsconsin, because it's not safe for your family. They're under a very discreet protecton but if you go there you'll put them at greater risk." And there he had to stop. He couldn't bear to look at Jack's lost expression a moment longer.

Bobby got up and looked out of the window, not seeing anything. A minute later he returned to the chair and glanced at Jack. The anger had dissipated but the lost expression was still there, and there was an aura of desperation around him. "I'm sorry you're going through all this. You can't imagine how sorry I am. I don't know how to help you. And this is something else I'm sorry for."

Jack kept his eyes on his lap and shook slightly his head. He couldn't look at his friend or he would fall apart but he couldn't let Bobby feel sorry for something he had no control over.

"Listen, Sparky. Stay here for a couple of days more. This will make the doctor, AND you friends, happy and it'll give me some time to organize. In a couple of days I'll pick you up and bring you home. I'll stay with you and you'll follow the outpatient therapy here, which is the most economical solution I can think of."

"No." Jack said in a rasp voice. Then, after he cleared his throat, he repeated. "No. I still can't pay for the outpatient care and I don't want you to be my babysitter." There wasn't anger in his voice this time but only defeat. Bobby found he liked the anger better.

"If you prefer someone else with you just tell me who. Myles, D, the girls, they all offered to help you every way you need. I just thought, since we've already lived together..." Bobby had tried to keep the hurt from his voice. Really, he had tried.

"It's not that I want someone else, Crash. It's just that I don't want anyone. I don't want to need anyone." And there again the desperation and the defeat.

"Jack. Mate, look at me. Sparky." The Australian waited for his friend to comply. "I understand but you need to let us help you. WE need you to let us help you. We can't do much but we can help you go through this awful moment. You have just to accept our help. I want to stay with you and help you at your home. Myles wants to help you pay for your medical expenses until you'll be able to do it on your own. I know you and I know your pride. I've always admired you for it. You can't let your pride get the best of you, though. Not when your life and well-being will pay the price."

"Now you sound just like Myles." Jack observed.

"That hurt, mate." The Australian replied in an offended tone, a hand on his chest.

Jack's lips curved a little upwards and Bobby interpreted it as a smile. Sort of. Good. Sort-of-smiling was better than sulking and waaaay better than being desperate.

"Promise me you'll think about it, Sparky."

Jack took his own sweet time to reply but it was worth it.

"I promise. Now let me sleep. I'm tired."

At least, Bobby hoped it was worth it. He got up and went to exit the room.

"Crash?"

"Yes?"

"Thank you." It was just a choked whisper and it was enough to break Bobby's heart.

"You're welcome, mate. See you later."


	33. Chapter 33

_A/N: Thanks for sticking with me and taking the time to read and review. It means the wordl to me. Really. Every time I read one of your reviews I find myself smiling a little it's not good for my reputation at work..._

* * *

"Well?" Tara asked when Bobby entered the bullpen.

"As we thought, the car which hit and killed the fake nurse was stolen. We found it in a back alley, five blocks away. No witnesses, obviously. I'm ready to bet my whole wage that there won't be Capono's fingerprints in there. On the other hand, the vehicle is full of evidence for the ERT to comb through, since it was already half dismantled."

"Well, the criminals are more and more efficient nowadays… I was asking about Jack, though." Tara clarified. "You didn't have a happy expression on your face when you answered the phone"

"A man had just been killed before my eyes, Tara. A man I should have protected. What kind of expression did you expect me to have?"

"An angry expression." Tara replied matter-of-factly. "You were grimacing, instead."

"You spend way too much time studying my expressions." Bobby observed teasingly, smiling when Tara blushed slightly.

"I couldn't agree more." D commented dryly.

"So," Tara squeaked then cleared his throat. "So, what did Jack want?"

"He found out about the insurance affair and Myles' role in it and wanted to sign AMA."

"Did you make him see reason?"

"Well, I managed to convince him to have a little more patience, to give me a little more time to do a couple of things…" The Australian answered, perching himself on a corner of Tara's desk and keeping his gaze carefully away form D's face.

"How?" D asked, planting himself right in front of his colleague and bowing his head until he caught the man's eye.

Bobby grimaced. "I promised him he could go home. His house here in DC, I mean. Not Wisconsin." He hasted to add.

"No way. He can't go home. He has to stay at the hospital, under protection." D objected, as the Australian knew he would.

"And where he can be cared for." Sue added, the concern evident in her face.

"He can be protected at his home, too. Even better. Less people around, fewer entrances. It'll be even easier than the hospital. And I'll be there with him 24/7 to protect him and to help him. Every day I could bring him to the hospital for the physiotherapy. His doctor okayed it."

"No, Bobby. It's too dangerous. You know as well as I do that there are too many things that could go wrong in a car. How could we protect you if you're blocked in a traffic jam? You'd be sitting ducks. Think about the transfers to and from the car. You'd be too vulnerable." D reasoned, his expression as dark and disappointed as Bobby's. He was doing the Devil's advocate and he wasn't enjoying it one bit. Still, it was his job. Jack's life depended on weather he did a good job or not. Doing a poor job wasn't an option. Not with Jack's life at stake.

Bobby got up abruptly and marched to the window, hands on hips and shoulders hunched. After a moment Tara followed him and put a hand on his arm.

"I feel so helpless." The Australian confessed in a whisper, turning around. "I know you're right, D. I know you're only doing Jack's best interest. You didn't see him this morning, though. You didn't see him the other day after his mom got worse. He doesn't deserve all this. I just wanted to give him something familiar. He needs to have again control of his life. At least some things of his life. He… I…"

Bobby turned around unable to continue, his throat constricted and his eyes moist. He was so frustrated! He just wanted to help his best friend. He only wanted to do the right thing for once. Instead he had blown it up again. He had given Jack hope and now he had to take it away. It was not fair. To Jack. And to him.

"We could try another way." Tara proposed after a minute filled with a tense silence. When all eyes were on her, the blond agent shifted, a little self-conscious, then she glanced at Bobby's upset face and explained her idea. "We could bring him home and then bring a physiotherapist to him. One we can check on. One who'll follow Jack's therapy until the end. Of the physio or of the protection. It would be a situation easy to control. Easier than any alternative."

"It won't work." Lucy objected. "He won't accept. The home-care will cost more than the outpatient care at the hospital. It would mean a bigger help from Myles… Jack will refuse."

"She's right, Tara. I managed to convince him… I still don't know exactly how I managed to convince him to accept my idea and the help Myles is already giving him." Bobby agreed, albeit reluctantly. He liked Tara's idea and it didn't have anything to do with the fact that he liked Tara, too. Not this time.

"Let me try." Tara said simply, her steady gaze on Bobby's then on Sue's and finally on D's face. "I know I'm not his best friend or his partner but I think I can convince him. Let me try." She repeated. "We don't have much to lose, do we?"

"Ok, Tara. I'm not completely sold but give it a try. I hope Jack will listen to you. In the meantime, I'll ask the AD to clear this plan."

"No need, agent Gans." The AD said, entering the room and startling the whole group.

"Sir, I…"

"I agree with you, agent Gans." The man aid, raising a hand to silence the agents. "It is not an ideal situation but agent Williams his right. It would be a situation easy to control. If you can convince your colleague then you have my blessing. Gans, you will choose personally agent Hudson's protective detail. Agent Manning, you will be his bodyguard day and night. Only one of this team will take your place if you'll need to leave the house. If something goes wrong, no heroics. I can't lose another member of this team, not even temporarily like Hudson." The AD fixed his gaze on the face of each member of the team, silently evaluating them, wondering if their heads were in the right place because their hearts sure were. That was the problem. "Right now, though, I want two of you at this address." H added, handing Tara a sheet of paper. "DCPD found a body and thought we could be interested in it. Williams and Thomas. You two go there. Gans, I want you to start evaluating the personnel who will protect Hudson. Miss Dotson, I want you to find the physiotherapist for Hudson. Check his or her background, talk to him or her. I trust your judgement. Agent Manning, you'll be on leave until Hudson will go home. I… we need you sharp and rested. Besides, I'm sure you'll have to prepare yourself for the difficult task you offered for. Good-bye."

In a moment the man was out of the office, his back followed by the eyes of five quite surprised and very impressed subordinates. D was the first to react.

"Ok, people. You heard the boss. Let's get to work."

The agents hurried to do just that. Only Bobby stayed right were he was, suddenly overwhelmed by sheer panic. He didn't know how to care for a person in Jack's condition. He didn't even know where to look to find out about things like these. He didn't… He couldn't… He was… He was hyperventilating.

"Hey, is something wrong?" Tara asked, her voice soft and filled with concern.

"I don't know how." He said simply, as if Tara could comprehend what was going on in Bobby's head just by this.

Amazingly enough, she could.

"Don't worry, Bobby. You'll do a great job. I'm sure. And remember that you're not alone. If you need a hand, a shoulder, an ear or something else…" And here she smiled mischievously "I promise I'll be there. Always." The last word was pronounced in a serious tone, her eyes bright and intense.

Bobby smiled gratefully, his eyes boring in hers.

"I'll hold you to that." He whispered.

"I count on it." She breathed back. And then she was gone.

This time, Bobby moved too. He could do this. He could do this. He had to do this. The image of Jack's lost expression flashed in his mind. He wanted to do this.


	34. Chapter 34

_A/N: Thank you for your kind reviews. You don't know how much they mean to me. A little warning: things will go a lot worse before getting better. Just a reminder..._

* * *

"What can you tell us?" Tara asked the officer, her eyes scanning the scene and stopping briefly on the body on the floor.

"We received an anonymous call telling us that someone had been killed in this apartment. We recorded the phone call if you want it." The young cop replied.

Tara nodded.

"Can you tell us if it was a man or a woman?"

"Marcy, she took the call, said it was a man. Middle age." At Tara's raised eyebrow he shrugged. "She knows her stuff." Was all he said.

"Did you already interview the neighbours?" Sue asked.

"Yes. They didn't hear anything. And this is a quiet neighbourhood. Nothing to hide, if you know what I mean."

"We understand." Tara assured.

"We found a very sophisticated rifle in his bedroom. A piece of beauty." The cop added.

"Why did you call us?" Sue asked, puzzled. Tara nodded in agreement.

"We also found a letter. You know, a suicide note."

"A suicide note? Did the man kill himself?" Tara asked.

"Only if he could shot himself in the back of the head." The young cop replied.

"An execution." Sue commented.

"Yep." The cop agreed. "However, as I was saying, we found this letter." He handed Sue a sealed plastic bag with a sheet of paper in it. "So we called you." The man shrugged again.

The two FBI agents read the note.  
_  
I'm sorry. I failed. It won't happen again._

It was addressed to _Jack Hudson, FBI, Washington DC_.

###

"Hi, Jack. How are you today?" Tara asked upon entering the room, her chirpy tone clearly forced and almost drowning out Sue's more subdued greeting.

"Hi. Could be better." Jack replied truthfully with a grimace. Physiotherapy had been very tiring, with him a little too enthusiastic at the idea of going home soon.

"Are you in pain?" Sue asked, concern clear in her face.

"Just a little sore." Jack answered, his gaze never settling on the analyst's face. "I think I overdid it just a little during the physio." He admitted with a sheepish expression.

"Jack. Doing too much too soon could make things worse." Tara reprimanded, her tone showing her concern.

"I know. I know. Don't worry. Manny wouldn't have let me do it if he thought I could harm myself."

"Jack, you don't have to prove anything to anyone." Sue commented softly.

"I'm not trying to prove anything. I just want to be as independent as possible when I'll go home. I don't want to be too much of a burden to Bobby."

"You won't be a burden…" Tara objected.

"Yes, I will." Jack replied, his tone slightly irritated and his face pained. "I don't think he really knows what he put himself into."

"You don't give him enough credit." Tara observed, her tone defiant and her stance suddenly rigid.

"Stand down, Tara. No need to defend him from me. I know him well, better than you. At least for now." At this point he winked and then grinned briefly at the blush colouring the agent's face. "He's too good for his own sake. He didn't think twice when he offered to help and not for a misplaced sense of guilt but because he's a good friend with a huge heart. I'm sure, though, that right now he's panicking somewhere and thinking that it wasn't such a good idea after all. With the same certainty I know that he won't backpedal from his offer and that he won't confide in me about his insecurities. Not this time. I really hope someone else will be there to put him back together when this experience, and mainly me, will manage to break him." His intense gaze found Tara's and left it only a minute later, satisfied by what he saw there. "So, what did bring you here ladies?" He asked then with a strained smile.

"We have to tell you something." Sue answered since Tara kept staring at Jack with an unreadable expression on her face.

"Something good or bad?" He asked, nervous. All this stalling didn't bode well with him and, to top it off, Sue's presence right now put him in an awkward position because he now knew where Sue stood in their relationship but she didn't know what was his position. The problem was he didn't know it either.

"You can't go home and follow the out-patient care at the hospital." Tara blurted out. Beating around the bush couldn't bring to anything good. Besides, Jack deserved better.

"I can't go home?" Jack asked, his voice low and a decidedly miserable expression on his face.

Now Tara could understand way better why Bobby had made such a rash decision. She shifted her gaze to Sue looking for some courage. Sue gave her a tiny nod and an even tinier smile. Great.

"No. you can go home but you can't leave the house, not even for the physiotherapy. We'll bring a physiotherapist to your home every day." Tara reassured.

"It'd cost too much." Jack objected.

"Myles has already agreed to pay until the insurance will take over."

"So what is this? A new national sport? Let's control Jack's life? Make his life miserable?" Jack snapped.

Tara took a step back not because she was afraid of Jack, even if Jack's expression _was _scary, but because she found herself floundering in uncharted territory. This wasn't the Jack she knew. Jack was a very well balanced man. The man before her was mercurial, his mood swings so sudden and violent that it wasn't humanly possible to keep up with them. Poor Bobby. Jack was right. He didn't realize the mess he had put himself into.

"We don't want to make your life miserable, Jack." Sue protested.

"No, you're happy enough to just put me aside and play with my life deciding what I must do or not do!" Jack snarled. He was red-faced and it was clear that this rant was costing him. To top it off, the monitors surrounding Jack's bed weren't emitting happy sounds. Tara wondered how it was possible that a nurse had not yet entered and kicked both of them out of Jack's room for upsetting him. After having been chewed by Jack she had to remember to file a complaint with the hospital about it.

"Jack! Calm down, please." Tara said, her voice steady and her tone stern. "We're just trying to protect you because we care about you. Just a couple of hours ago we found the body of a man killed with a bullet in the back of the head and a note addressed to you. We're still waiting for the analysis from the forensics but we're pretty sure that that man was the sniper who put a bullet in you and Bobby during the shootout. The note was a threat. To you. Capono is tying his loose ends. We can't afford to put you in danger with daily trips to the hospital." Ok. Now could she go home and sleep for the rest of the day? Talking with Jack had never been so exhausting.

"I don't care!" Jack shouted. "I don't care." He repeated more softly. A full minute of silence followed his words.

"I can't believe you're so selfish!" Tara commented suddenly, the determination in her eyes hidden by the shaking of her bent head.

"Selfish?" Jack's tone was incredulous as was Sue's expression.

"Yes, selfish. The only thing you think about is yourself."

"Oh, sorry if after having been shot and paralysed I focus my attention on me. I …"

"I didn't finish!" Tara interrupted brusquely. "Selfish, because you don't care about what happens to the people around you. You're not interested in protecting yourself from a murderer? Fine. The life is yours. But you're willing to sacrifice your friends only to keep your pride intact. I think selfish describes you pretty well."

"What are you talking about? I'm not sacrificing anyone!" Jack protested hotly.

"No? What do you call putting Bobby's life in danger every day twice a day to bring you to the hospital just because you don't want to accept the money that a _friend _is more than willing to lend you?"

Tara finished with a raised eyebrow and both hands on her hips, trying to ignore Sue's hand on her arm clearly pleading with her not to go too far with a Jack that evidently was no more their Jack. Not completely, at least. A Jack who was now watching his lap with such a sad expression that she was ready to fall on her knees and beg his pardon for having forced his hand.

"You're right." Jack croaked. Then he cleared his throat and swallowed a couple of times. "You're right." He repeated. "I'm behaving like a jerk."

"Jack, I don't…"

"No, you didn't say it but maybe you're thinking it. It doesn't matter, though. I _know_ I'm behaving like a jerk. Give Myles my thanks for his offer. I'm ready to go home when you think it's safe and at your conditions. Thank you both for coming."

Then he was painfully shifting on the bed, turning on his side so that he was giving them his back.

"Jack." Sue tried.

"I'm tired. I want to sleep." He mumbled and closed his eyes.

Tara repeated Jack's words to Sue then with a last glance to her friend's semi-curled form and a deep sigh she exited the room followed by the blond analyst.

"Well?" Myles asked, his face worried. It was clear he had heard the shouts.

"He accepted" Tara said simply. "I just hope that when all this folly will be over he'll forgive me."

"You did the right thing." Sue comforted, the hand on Tara's arm squeezing gently. Her face, though, betrayed her own doubts.

"I'm not so sure." Tara commented dejectedly, reluctantly meeting the matching upset expressions on both her friends' faces.


	35. Chapter 35

Man, he was tired! And sore! He had pushed a little too much during the physio, again. Manny had told him to slow down, to save his strength because then he had to use that strength to situate himself on the wheelchair and transfer to the bed all by himself. In the end, he had managed to do both things, barely. Manny had had to help him to get off the floor where he had ended up when his trembling arms had given out during the transfer from the chair to the bed. He wished he had a little more strength left to punch Manny right in the nose to wipe that smug expression from his face, the one singsonging "_I told you sooooo_". Sure, after having broken Manny's nose he would have felt bad because the man had had any right to rejoice in his victory after all the less than pleasant words he had directed to the physiotherapist. It didn't mean he had to like it. He had been an idiot, not hearing the man's advices. It didn't mean he had to accept it when someone else pointed it out. Then again, why not? He had been accepting everything else!

"_Wait a couple of days_". This from Bobby.

"_Wait __**anothe**__r couple of days_". From the doctor.

"_Do not protest the house arrests_". Tara, though he was pretty sure she had not used that expression.

"_Do not yell and do not make everyone's life impossible_". His father.

"_Take my money and shut up_". Myles, in many more and more diplomatic words.

"_Eat 're loosing too much weight_". Lucy.

"_Do not go home to your family_". D, however right his reasons were.

"_Do not give up_". His mother, her voice frail and strained.

"_I exposed my heart, now you expose yours_". Sue.

Granted, she had not spoken about it once since her confession but her presence every day by his side, her kindness, her soft smiles, her eyes that didn't meet his anymore, all this and more kept screaming at him to be a man and talk to her already. Hers was the only order he had not succumbed to, yet, and not because it lacked the strength but because he was a selfish coward. He had thought good and long about the answer because Sue didn't deserve anything less and he now knew what he felt and what he had to say. He wasn't ready, though. He still couldn't bring himself to look her in the eyes and lie to her, to tell her that to him she was just a good friend and nothing else, nothing more. He wasn't ready to risk loosing her. Ergo his selfishness and cowardice. A part of him kept telling him that nothing would change, that she would stay right there beside him anyway. He wanted to believe it. It was the only reason he was even contemplating the decision to lie to her. The other part of him, the rational part, the one he rarely listened to anymore, insisted on telling her the truth. He couldn't, though, because then she would be chained to a cripple for her whole life, out of love first and out of loyalty after a little bit. She didn't deserve this. She deserved to live a full life. She had fought too hard and for too long to settle for anything less. Here laid the problem. He knew, he just knew that if he told her the truth, his real feelings for her, she would leave everything for him. He couldn't do this to her. Already he was feeling miserable about Bobby's role in his life from now on until… who knows? Miserable not for himself, well not only for himself, but mainly for Bobby. That good giant just that morning had had a taste of what looking after a handicapped man like him would mean. Manny had wanted Bobby to learn how to manhandle Jack from the transfers from and to the wheelchair to and from every possible place: bed, toilet, tub, shower, couch, car… Bobby had listened and observed with the utmost attention, his expression focused. His eyes, though, were screaming in panic "_What am I doing? What am I doing?_". The result? Jack on the floor because he had pushed too much during the physio because he couldn't bear the panic and the feelings of uncertainty and inadequacy he had seen in his best friend's eyes.  
Another couple of days and he would be home. Another couple of days of physio and he wouldn't be a burden to Bobby.

"Are you ready to leave this joint?" Bobby asked cheerfully.

"As ready as I'll ever be." Jack replied with a strained smile. It's not that he didn't want to leave the hospital because he did. He was more than eager to leave behind the smell of antiseptic, the nurses, the doctors and the hospital food. It's just that, if he had to be completely honest with himself, he was a little scared. What if something bad happened? What if he didn't manage to be as independent as he had fought so hard to be? What if Bobby tired to be his babysitter and left him alone? What if he did or said something that scared Bobby away? To add to these fears there was the knowledge that Capono had somehow suddenly disappeared from their radar. Not a good sign. Had he finally decided to attack? Had he decided not to proceed? Not likely. He would have simply returned to work. It's not like they had some evidence to nail him.  
When had he, Jack Hudson, become so anxious?

"What are we waiting for?" The Australian asked again. "Have you already signed the papers?"

"Yes, I did. And we're waiting for the doctor who wants to check on me one last time." Jack answered for the second? Third time? Why was Bobby so nervous? Was he already having second thoughts? It would be understandable. Completely understandable. It'd be for the best if Bobby decided to back out from his self-imposed mission, Jack was sure. For the both of them. Less awkwardness, less strain on their friendship… It would be the right thing to do. The problem was, though, that he was starting to accept the idea…  
His musings were interrupted by the arrival of the awaited doctor with Manny in tow.

"Mr. Hudson, Mr. Manning." The physician greeted shaking hands with both men. "I just need to do a really quick check-up on Mr. Hudson here, then we're going to have a brief chat and then you'll be free to go."

The doctor checked Jack's lungs and heart, his reflexes and his coordination. All the while Jack's eyes shifted from Bobby's fidgeting figure to Manny's relaxed pose.

"Ok, you're good to go. Now, a couple of recommendations." His eyes shifted from Jack to Bobby then fixed on the latter. "Has the nurse already talked to you?" He asked. At Bobby's nod he continued. "Manny here tells me that Mr. Hudson tends to overdo with his physiotherapy. It's fundamental that he paces himself. An excessively aggressive regimen could set him back. He has to follow exactly his physiotherapist's advice."

"That would be me." Manny informed, smirking at Jack's glare. "What? Aren't you happy?"

"Ecstatic." Jack replied dryly. He really didn't have anything against Manny. He was a good guy. It's just that he was so annoyingly and frustratingly self-confident… Which, coupled with the fact that they had already a relationship of some sort, made him the perfect choice. If someone else had to chose for him. Again, frustrating. Not as much frustrating, though, as the doctor before him who kept ignoring him while talking ABOUT HIM to Bobby.

"Finally, I want you to read these brochures here." The doctor said while handing the Australian a bunch of leaflets. "They'll help you understand what Mr. Hudson could go through."

Jack managed to read a couple of titles. "Depression", "PTSD". Ah, those brochures. By their crumpled aspect they were the same the good doctor had given him and that had found their way to the wasting bin. Stingy, frustrating man.

"Can we go, now?" Jack asked, his tone annoyed, as it should be if he could say so himself.

"Sure, sure. You're free to go." The doctor allowed.

Outside the room were waiting Myles, D and Tara who surrounded Jack's wheelchair so smoothly that Jack had to wonder if they had rehearsed it before. Protection detail. Not to boast but he had the best on the market.  
Once out of the hospital, in the brief trip from the exit to the cars, he could see at least six agents who weren't even trying to be discreet. At least he hoped they weren't trying... Probably they wanted Capono to know they were there. That would explain why they hadn't used the garage. Good choice. Capono wouldn't try anything with all this surveillance. In such a crowded place they couldn't risk a shootout.  
Finally, the car. The transfer to the vehicle went smoothly, also thanks to Bobby's help. Once settled on the backseat Jack looked up to see Sue's smiling face peering from the passenger seat.

"Hi!" Sue greeted.

"Hi yourself." He looked around briefly while Bobby climbed on the vehicle. "Where's Levi?"

"He's with Lucy to the vet. They'll come to your house a little later." Sue explained.

"Good." He missed that knucklehead and the reminder that he really was going home put him back in a good disposition.

The little journey was uneventful, thank God, and twenty minutes later the good Bobby was helping Jack to get situated on the wheelchair. He was still nervous and this was starting to grate on Jack's nerves. Jack distracted himself taking a look around the garage. Nope. This time the agents weren't so easily visible. For those who weren't FBI, that is. Unfortunately, Capono _was_ FBI. The message, however, was clear. Try something and we catch you. For unknown reasons this message unsettled Jack. That wasn't exactly true. Jack knew the reasons. He just wished he didn't have to admit to himself that he was scared. The mere possibility of an attack terrified him. He had never, ever felt this way. Never. He didn't even understand why Tony was having this effect on him. It wasn't the first time some bad guy had tried to off him and it wouldn't be the last. Maybe yes, seeing as he soon wouldn't be an FBI agent anymore.

"We're here."

Jack was startled by Bobby's announcement and his friend's big hand on his shoulder.

"You ok?" The Australian added with a concerned expression that couldn't quite mask his anxiousness.

"Yeah, I'm fine. I was just deep in thought. So, by all means, let's go. My things are asking for me, I can here them calling." He smiled.

Bobby fidgeted for another minute, eyes downcast and shoulders tense, then he put the key in the hole and, AT LAST, opened the door. And stayed there, giving his back, and not just that, to Jack and the others, effectively blocking the way.

"Crash?" Jack called after a moment. "I'd like to get in my house. The threshold isn't as comfy." Jack joked.

Bobby stayed still a moment longer then he started to move. Very slowly. Too slowly in the opinion of a man as eager as Jack was to finally go back to something familiar.

"Oh! Come on, Bobby!" Jack exclaimed, exasperated, shoving his friend aside. "What has gotten into… you…" He ended in a whisper while shifting his gaze from corner to corner of his house.  
His wheelchair-friendly house.  
He went a little further in the room and then stopped for a moment in the middle of his living room, looking around. A moment later he was in the kitchen then in the bedroom and finally in the bathroom. When he returned to the living room he found Bobby exactly where he had left him, just inside the door, his eyes following Jack's every move with something akin to fear. The words on Jack's lips died and the rage, the indignation and he frustration that had built up from the moment he had entered the house leaked out of him in record time. He had wanted to rage and tear Bobby a new one for what he had done to the house, for having done it without his permission, for having slapped on his face his condition. One look at Bobby's face, though, and his brain, and he suspected his heart, kicked in. Bobby was waiting with bathed breath for Jack's reaction and, if Jack was still able to read him like he used to, Bobby was ready to be swallowed whole by a raging best friend. So he had not changed his mind about the whole babysitting thing, he was just worried about Jack's reaction to the changes in the house. Jack wanted to give a reassuring smile to his friend but the changes all around him, albeit made in good faith, didn't allow him even that much. He had to let Bobby know they were good, though.

"I like what you did with the house." There, he had said it. It had been even harder than he had thought. He just hoped Bobby understood.

The effect was instantaneous. The Australian's shoulders relaxed, the corners of his eyes crinkled and two small dimples appeared on his cheeks.

"Lucy chose the flowers and Myles the laces." The Australian explained in a straight face.

Both Jack's eyebrows shot up almost to his hairline at that just to smooth out a moment later at the indignant "Hey!" coming from the corridor. He smirked. The smirk disappeared, though, the moment he returned his gaze to the more spaced furniture, to the ramp leading to the kitchen and bypassing the few steps, to the lower shelves where the most important items and his most treasured possessions had taken new residence. What irked him the most, though, wasn't the fact that these changes talked of disability. He wasn't delusional; he knew he was on a wheelchair. It was the fact that they suggested a sense of finality that he still couldn't accept. Ok, maybe he _was_ a little delusional.


	36. Chapter 36

"_Hi, dad. Mom's awake? … Can I talk to her? … Yes, I'm home … Yes, I'm fine … No, I don't know when I'll be able to come. Why? … Dad, how's mom? … Mom? … How do you feel? … Yeah, Yeah, I'm home and I'm fine … You seem in pain, mom … Bobby's with me … Yes, he's a good friend … Mom? Can't you take something for the pain? … Maybe you should go back to the hospital … No? What does it mean no? They could help you … What do you mean they can't? … Is it for this reason that you went back home? … I'm coming home, mom. Tomorrow I'll book the first flight and come there … I really don't care, mom … You can't, you can't tell me you're dying and expect me to stay put! … I don't want to calm down, mom! I want to be there! … I know perfectly well my situation … I'm not in danger! … No, I don't think you're stupid. It's just that … Yes, I'd be there with you if I could, you know it. You do know it, don't you? … I know … I know … Mom, please, remember our deal. I'm fighting. You keep fighting too … I love you too, mom. Bye …_ "

#

Breakfast was a very quiet affair that got Bobby quite worried.

"It's just that …" the Australian started after having prodded Jack for answers about his gloomy disposition for the last half hour.

"What?" Jack snapped. "It's just what?" He didn't miss Bobby's big deep breath there.

"I read all those brochures yesterday…"

"I suggest a change of genre, mate. Try Patrick O'Brian. Way better." Jack interrupted dryly.

Other big deep breath.

"I read what those things say, Sparky, and I'm worried about you. Depression can be a frequent reaction to traumas like yours."

"I'm not depressed, Crash."

"Did you have any nightmares?" Bobby prodded again.

"And I don't suffer from PTSD either."

"Then what is happen…"

"My mom's dying, Crash. This is what is happening to me. My mom went home from the hospital not because she was better but to go die in her house. And I'm stuck here thanks to a lunatic. That's why I'm such a bad company today and I will be for the next weeks, supposing my mom has that long to live. Now, please, excuse me."

That said he wheeled away from the kitchen to go sitting by the window in the living room, his gaze fixed on the closed shutters that were supposed to protect him from the outside world.

The morning in general was a quiet affair.

###

At lunch the whole team arrived bringing shopping bags and absolutely no news about Capono.

"D, I need to go to my mother." Jack pleaded for the second time already, not caring how undignified or out of character it could seem.

"Jack, we have already discussed it. The AD doesn't approve it. Too dangerous for you and for your family."

"Yes, I know and he's right. I don't have much of a choice, though. I have to go. Now. We could provoke Capono. We need a trap so that then I can be free to move around. I could go to the hospital, to take a stroll in the park, to the church. Whatever you think better suited for our situation so that the operation goes as smoothly as possible."

"Jack, I can't guarantee ..." D started.

"No, you can't. You can, though, promise me you'll take my suggestions to the AD as soon as possible. You can assure me that you'll do your best to sell my idea to the boss. Please, don't tell me what you can't do when you can do so many things."

"Ok, Jack. I'll try." D promised.

"That's all I ask. Thank you."

###

Two hours later the no of the AD reached Jack and poor Manny and poor Jack's body had paid the price. Again. At the end of the therapy the rage had left Jack's body to be replaced by weariness and soreness. Part of this success was due to Manny who, at Jack's greeting "This really is a bad day", had unusually kept quiet and supportive, intervening only when strictly necessary. Good boy. The physiotherapy had left him drained and he accepted Many's help to get situated in the shower. Not like it was the first time.

"Dinner in thirty minutes!" Bobby yelled from the kitchen just before Jack turned the shower on.

"How domestic." Jack muttered relaxing under the warm spray.

He staid under the shower for what felt like forever, letting the water loose the strained muscles and soothe his nerves. When he turned the water off he realised he had a big problem. The water had done its job all too well and now his arms felt like lead weights. He tried to lift his body from the shower seat using the proper bars but realised that at the moment his trembling limbs really couldn't support his weight.  
He took a deep breath that pulled a little at the healing wounds. Ok. He could do this. He had just to wait a couple of minutes and try again...  
Bad idea. The situation had gone worse.  
He took another deep breath that begged to be released as a sob so he held it until he managed to let it go quietly albeit through trembling lips. He would not break down in the shower. He would not break down **for** a shower! It would be too pathetic. Then again, he_ was _pathetic and this shower was just another thing hammering the point home, another evidence of the impossibility for his life to go back to what it was, another thing going wrong in his life. So, why not break down in the shower where every evidence of his weakness would be erased? He reached for the handle with a trembling hand and turned the shower back on, letting the water hide his tears and muffle his sobs, letting himself think about his mom, his life, his job and then drown in his misery, letting himself ignore the frantic shouts coming form the other side of the door.

* * *

_A/N: Patrick O'Brian rocks!_

_A/N2: Sorry for the cliffhanger..._


	37. Chapter 37

_A/N: Your wish is my command... so here's the next part. I'm afraid it's still quite sad... No cliffhangers, though. Thank you for reading and reviewing._

* * *

"Dinner's ready in five minutes, Jack!" Bobby hollered while turning the oven off. When no answer came he hurried to set the table then reached the bathroom, knocking on the door.

"Dinner's ready!" He shouted again, hoping that this time his voice would be heard over the shower. Why was the shower still on? It was already half an hour. He knew that since the shoot-out Jack took more than his usual ten minutes for the shower but the previous times he was out of the shower and dressed in twenty minutes top. Maybe he was just tired and needed some more time. It was obvious that he had overdone it a little with the therapy but it was even more obvious that he had needed to take out his frustration somehow.

"Jack! Dinner's getting cold!" He shouted even louder. There was no way Jack had not heard him.

No answer.

"Jack, mate! Everything's ok?"

Still no answer, only the sound of the water. Manny had assured him that the bathroom door was not locked before leaving so he could enter but he didn't want to do it if it wasn't really necessary. Jack was a very private person and he wouldn't appreciate such disregard for his privacy.  
What if Jack wasn't feeling well, though? What if he had fainted?

"Jack! Answer me, Jack!" He knew he sounded frantic but didn't care. Still nothing. Something was wrong. "Jack! I'm coming in!" He alerted then he promptly swung the door open and strode towards the shower booth.

Last chance. He raised his hand to knock on the shower stall when he heard a faint noise over the falling water and his own pounding heart. He forced himself to calm down and strained his ears to hear better.  
Sobs. Jack was sobbing in the shower. Gosh! What was he supposed to do now? He sat heavily down on the closed toilet lid and rested his elbows on his thighs, his head tightly gripped between his hands. He had never felt so out of his depth in all his life. He didn't know what to do to help his friend. He didn't even know if he _could _do something for him. He felt useless and tired and scared to death. He just wanted to sit there forever and weep along with his friend. He couldn't, though. He couldn't because… because… because he couldn't let Jack catch pneumonia staying in that shower forever! There! He had found something he could do. Then he could make sure that Jack ate. Good, two things he could do. Not much but at least it was something. He took a deep breath and got up.

"Jack, mate, are you ok?" He asked in a loud voice while knocking on the stall.

A startled gasp and a sniffling sound later, the long awaited voice of his best friend reached his ears, hoarse and muffled by the sound of the water.

"Yeah, yeah. Just a moment."

Less than a minute later the water turned off.

"Uh… could you hand me the towel that's on the sink, please?" Jack asked after a moment.

"Sure."

The Australian picked the requested item and let it fall from the top of the shower in what he hoped were Jack's awaiting hands.

"Thanks."

"You're welcome. Listen mate, dinner's ready. I'll wait for you in the kitchen, ok?"

"Yeah." Came the mumbled reply.

"Are you ok?" Bobby asked, concern again taking hold.

"Sure."

The reassurance had been a lot more subdued then he would have liked but the Aussie turned around and started leaving the room. He had managed to reach the door when he heard Jack's voice.

"Crash?"

Bobby retraced quickly his steps and stopped in front of the shower.

"Yes?"

Silence.

"Jack?" Bobby prompted.

More silence. Then a deep inhalation.

"Could you..." Bobby winced at the hesitant voice coming from the other side of the frosted glass panel. "Could you give me a hand? I can't seem to get out of the shower on my own."

The Australian decided to ignore the bitter tone of the last sentence. He didn't need it to know how much that situation and that request had cost his very independent friend.

"No problem, mate."

A minute later Bobby found himself face to face with his best friend. Jack diverted his puffy and red rimmed eyes immediately, settling his gaze on his lap and the towel covering it.

"Ok, I'm ready when you're ready." Bobby said.

Another minute and Jack nodded stiffly.

"Ok. Now I'm going to lift you just a little so you can secure the towel around your waist. I'd like not to be scarred for the rest of my life."

Jack chuckled weakly and nodded again, shooting the Australian a grateful glance.

"Then we'll get you on the chair, ok?"

Again, Jack nodded.

"You know, you'll strain some muscle with all this nodding. A simple yes or even a grunt might be healthier."

With a lopsided tiny smirk Jack nodded again.

"Smart-ass." Bobby muttered while settling himself for the manoeuvre.

Not even ten minutes later Jack was on the wheelchair, dressed and towelling his hair, his eyes still downcast.

"I'm sorry." Jack said in what was little more than a whisper.

"What for?" Bobby asked, perplexed.

"You shouldn't have to do this." Jack replied then resumed to dry his hair.

Bobby sighed then sat on the closed toilet lid to be at eye level with his friend. Which was impossible if his friend kept staring at his lap. With a firm but gentle grip Bobby stopped the frantic motions of Jack's hand and forced his arm down.

"You keep it up you'll end up bald." He predicted with a small smile. Jack's sombre expression didn't change this time. Bobby sighed again.

"Jack, look at me." He ordered. "I refuse to talk to the top of your head."

When Jack reluctantly complied Bobby was taken aback by the intensity of Jack's gaze, by the sorrow and the shame he could see there.

"Jack, mate, I chose to live with you for a little while, remember?"

"To protect me."

"Yes, and to help you." Bobby corrected.

"You shouldn't have been forced to do this." Jack insisted.

"No one forced me, Sparky."

"You shouldn't have to do this kind of things." Jack repeated, frustration colouring his words and his face.

"What kind of things?"

"_This_!" Jack replied annoyed, encompassing both the bathroom and himself in an angry sweeping gesture.

"_This _is what friends are for, Sparky." Bobby countered.

The Australian held his friend's gaze trying to convey his sincerity through his eyes and his expression.

"I don't regret my choice and I'm glad I could help you somehow."

Jack studied him a moment longer then nodded slowly. Bobby nodded back then got up and started pushing the wheelchair out of the room.

"I want to go to bed." Jack said when it was clear that Bobby was bringing him to the kitchen.

"Yeah, I know. You need to eat, though." Bobby replied, stopping the wheelchair and putting himself in front of it.

"I'm not hungry."

"I'm sure that once you start eating you'll change your mind."

"I wouldn't count on it." Jack grumbled.

"Maybe. Maybe not. Just one way to find out." Bobby said, wiggling his eyebrows. Then he returned to his previous position and resumed pushing the wheelchair towards the kitchen.

"Crash!"

"Sparky!"

"Bobby, I don't want …"

"You need to eat, mate. You need to be strong to get better."

After a moment of silence Jack nodded and was rewarded with a light slap on the back of the head. He smirked.


	38. Chapter 38

_A/N: Thank you for your reviews. A little breather form all the angst._

* * *

Jack glanced at his watch for what had to be at least the tenth time in ten minutes so he wasn't really surprised when Bobby sighed loudly.

"Have you somewhere else to be?" The Australian asked, his eyes intent on the television screen where his car was leaving Jack's car in the dust, literally.

"Uh, no. Why?" Jack tried for a nonchalant tone, without much success. How could he lose all his skills as a bluffer when he was with his friends it was beyond him. It wasn't fair, really.

"Because you spent the last hour shifting your gaze between the TV and the watch. I really don't know how you didn't make yourself dizzy, yet."

The truth was that he had already made himself a little dizzy but Bobby really didn't need to know that.

"So, what's the matter?" Bobby prodded, pausing the game and shifting on the couch so that he could see his friend's face and the skilful impression that said friend was doing of a fish, a blubbering fish to be more exact.

Jack opened and closed his mouth a couple of times then he emitted a couple of sounds, because those sure weren't words, just to return to open and close his mouth. A knock on the door put a stop to Jack's evident misery.

"Saved by the bell." Bobby commented, shooting a suspicious look to his friend before getting up to answer the door.

Jack turned his wheelchair so that he could see the door and took a deep breath to let it out slowly a moment later. The hard part was behind him now.

"It's D." Bobby informed Jack after having checked through the peephole.

Jack nodded solemnly to his friend and only when the Aussie had turned around again he let the smile show on his face. This was going to be good.  
The moment the door was opened the whole team showed up behind D crying "Surprise!". Someone, probably Tara if Jack had to guess, shot a couple of pictures right in that moment. Bobby stood rooted on the spot for quite some time, his mouth slightly agape. Then his face relaxed, a big, dimpled smile showed up in all its glory, and he moved from the door to let everyone in. After each team-mate had hugged him, some more manly than others, Bobby turned around to look at Jack with an unreadable expression on his face.

"Happy birthday, Crash."

###

The party went well, brief but full of laughter. Tara had amused everyone, and herself more than anyone else - Jack was sure - by showing the pictures of Bobby's surprised face she had took at their arrival. He had already asked her a copy of the best one. They had chatted, ate the cake Lucy had made and taken pictures. And Jack had spent the time avoiding being photographed. Not an easy feat. Not with Tara as the photographer, anyway. After an hour Myles, D and Lucy started to leave the party.

"What? So soon? The night is still young!" Bobby protested.

"We have to leave, Bobby. Don't worry, though, your night has just begun." With these words Lucy left Jack's house together with two chuckling agents. Bobby's befuddled expression earned itself another picture.

"What did she mean?"

"She meant that you have a free evening tonight to spend with a beautiful blond agent and, most important of all, out of here." Jack explained.

"Jack, I can't …"

"Yes, you can. Sue and Levi will stay here with me. We'll be fine. You go out and have fun. You deserve it. I know you're going stir crazy here and I don't blame you one bit. _I_ am going stir crazy and it's still _my_ house! Since I couldn't buy you anything this is my gift to you. Take a breath from this house, from your responsibilities and from me. God knows I'm not the easiest person to be around these days. And please, don't say it isn't true. We both know it is."

After a long moment of silence, Bobby finally nodded.

"Thank you, mate. I owe you one."

"Nah."

"We're even then." Bobby corrected.

"Not even close, Crash. Now go out and have fun. I don't want to see your face until tomorrow."

###

"Stop worrying about Jack." Tara admonished Bobby, again, when he checked his watch for the third time in less than an hour. "He's fine. He's with Sue and Levi and two agents are guarding his apartment."

"I know, I know." Bobby said quickly. "I know all this. It's just that in the last two weeks I… he…"

"He's been your responsibility." Tara finished for him. "I know it is difficult Bobby but you need to unwind a little. You're doing a wonderful job with Jack and …"

Bobby snorted and shook his head.

"What?" Tara asked.

"I'm not doing such a good job." Bobby lamented.

"That's not true." Tara protested.

"You don't know it." Bobby said in a low voice.

"I know _you_. I know you're doing…"

"I freaked out!" Bobby snapped, interrupting Tara and startling her.

Tara swallowed hard and studied his face. He looked tired and stressed and his eyes couldn't quite hide his sorrow. Tara leaned on the table to grasp his hand and braced herself for whatever was to come.

"What happened?" She asked and waited patiently for so long that she was starting to think that Bobby wouldn't answer her at all. At least he had squeezed her hand back. Then, after the waiter had come and left their bill, Bobby suddenly got up and put some money on the table.

"Let's get out of here." He said, not letting Tara's hand go. Once they were in the car he rubbed a hand over his face and sighed. "Yesterday he asked me if I could help him with a couple of new exercises for his legs and I thought why not? They had seemed pretty simple when Manny had made him do them."

"Where was Manny?" Tara asked.

"Manny comes in the morning but every afternoon Jack does some exercises for his upper body on his own. Manny approves." He hastened to add the last sentence when Tara frowned worriedly.

"Ok. So, you helped him." Tara said to get back to the conversation and what was eating Bobby up.

"Yeah. It was the first time I helped him with this kind of things and when I grabbed his leg I… I freaked out."

"Which means?"

"I froze up for a moment then let go of his leg, let it fall on the bed like it burned for heaven's sake! Then I got out of the room!" He answered, the disgust at his own actions evident in his voice.

Tara winced and asked the obvious question.

"Why?"

"It was cold, ice cold. Lifeless. There wasn't any tension… It was just a dead…thing." He swallowed. "I think that it's the first time I really realised what Jack's conditions were… which it's stupid because during these two weeks I witnessed first-hand how Jack's life has changed… It's just that… no one should be so cold… not unless they were… Oh Gosh…"

"Did you return?" Tara asked after a minute of silence disturbed only by Bobby's ragged breathing.

"What?" The Australian asked, confused.

"Did you return?" She repeated. "To help Jack?"

"Obviously!" Bobby replied, his expression slightly incredulous. "It's not like I could leave him there without any help!"

"Did you freak out again? Did you leave him again?"

"No. I stayed there but…"

"Then you did everything you could." Tara tried to reassure him.

"No. You don't understand."

"Then help me to understand." Tara begged. It hurt to see him hurting so much and she wanted to help. If only she knew how…

"He couldn't meet my eyes. He let me help him but he didn't talk, except for telling me how to help him. He didn't look toward me, not once, during the rest of the day. No wonder he wanted me out of his house."

"Now you're being silly. Jack didn't want you out of his house. He wanted you to have some time just for you. I won't say that what happened didn't upset Jack but you're friends and I'm sure he has already forgiven you." Not that there was something to forgive. Bobby wouldn't accept that reassurance, though. Of that she was sure. Like he wouldn't accept the highly likely idea that Jack wasn't mad at him but just, unjustly, ashamed of his condition and even guilty for putting his friend through all this, the very reason why he didn't want anyone with him.

"Do you really think…" He was hesitant, uncertain. And he shouldn't. A couple of weeks ago he wouldn't have been so unsure of himself and of his friendship with Jack. Another thing to thank Capono for. Aaargh! She wanted one hour alone with him, just one!

"No. I _know_ it." Tara assured after a moment to control her voice and swallow the lump in her throat. "I can even prove it! Do you want to see?" She asked, brightening considerably.

When he nodded slowly she opened her purse and took the camera out. She fiddled for a moment with the device then smiled widely handing the camera to Bobby. She gave him ten seconds to observe the only photograph she had managed to take of Jack where he was smiling softly to something that had the whole team in fits, his gaze on Bobby, and a fond expression on his face. Then she sighed dramatically.

"Now could we please stop talking about Jack?" _Sorry Jack. Sorry Jack. Sorry Jack._ "I feel neglected. And to think that Jack told me you were pining for me!"

"Oh! He told you this, didn't he?" Bobby asked with a slight smile while handing the camera back to her owner.

Tara nodded and smiled mischievously.

"He told me that he needed a night without you calling for me in your sleep _in that lovesick pitiful voice of his_. I'm quoting." She added, arching her fingers in the air and smiling broadly when Bobby blushed.

"I don't pine." Bobby muttered, starting the car.

Tara giggled, causing a smile to appear on Bobby's face, softening and relaxing his features. Tara leaned over and kissed Bobby on the cheek, right on the dimple that had appeared a moment before. Bobby turned his head toward her and she kissed him gently on the nose then on the mouth. Bobby shifted on the seat to lean toward Tara and envelope her in his embrace. Soon he was peppering her neck and face with soft kisses, his hands messing up her hair, the car sputtering a little and forgotten.  
The sound of a horn nearby startled them both and brought them back to the reality of a cold and quite uncomfortable car.

"Keep that thought in mind." Bobby breathed then put the car into gear and pushed on the throttle. He lowered his right hand and it was immediately grasped by Tara's smaller and warmer one. "Happy birthday, indeed." He whispered, widening his eyes when Tara giggled.

"Yep, you said it out loud." Tara confirmed, laughing when Bobby's face turned almost crimson.


	39. Chapter 39

_A/N: Thank you for your reviews. Do you want a J/S scene? Are you sure? Are you really really sure? As you wish... Remember though that saying... be careful what you wish for..._

* * *

They had eaten in a comfortable silence interrupted only by small talk. It had been relaxing and Jack had soaked up the atmosphere. Now they were watching the television with the subtitles on. He hadn't realized how much he had missed Sue's company, her calming presence and her graceful movements. He had also missed Levi and had spent most of the evening petting the dog which, apparently, had missed him too since its big soft head had been resting on his lap since the moment Sue and Levi had arrived.

"You did a good thing for Bobby tonight." Sue said softly, breaking the silence and startling Jack.

"I didn't do anything." He protested, shrugging and looking down at Levi's brown eyes. "You girls organized everything."

"True. You had this idea, though. You convinced Bobby. You keep taking care of him even in this difficult moment… You're a good friend. It's…"

"What?" Jack prompted when Sue's voice trailed off. He didn't think he needed praises for what he had done but he craved the sound of Sue's soft voice. Sue locked her eyes with his.

"It's one of the things that made me fall in love with you." She confessed boldly, a slight flush on her cheeks betraying how difficult had been to say those words.

Jack broke eye contact abruptly, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down while he swallowed convulsively. A whole minute passed in absolute silence.

"Sue, I'm sorry for my behaviour. I left you hanging for too long trying not to acknowledge your confession. I've been a jerk." He paused then smiled faintly. "At this point you should have denied my last statement…"

Sue just smiled.

"Okay. I guess I deserved it. It's just that I felt overwhelmed at the time. I still feel overwhelmed. And grateful… for your friendship."

Sue's eyes widened at this then lowered to her lap. Jack took advantage of Sue's temporary distraction to close his eyes and center himself. He had spent the whole afternoon preparing this speech, knowing that with his surprise to Bobby a confrontation was unavoidable. He owed it to her. It was so difficult, though. More difficult that he had thought possible because now Sue was before his eyes with her beautiful face, her warm smile, her delicate but oh so expressive hands, her delectable mouth with her soft lips, her kind eyes… He couldn't believe what he was about to say. He had happiness literally at arm's reach and he was going to throw it away. He knew it was the right thing to do but still… it was just so hard. He reopened his eyes to find Sue still looking down. He raised her chin with a gentle touch hoping that she didn't notice how his hand was trembling.

"I think you are a wonderful person and I know I'm lucky that I met you. I'm a better person because of you and I feel honoured that you consider me a friend but…" He paused for a moment, his eyes never leaving Sue's face. Years of experience had thought him that to bluff effectively you had to look the person right in the eye, to never break eye contact, to keep thinking to your ultimate goal. "… but I don't love you." He swallowed, grateful that Sue had not heard the slight quiver in his voice. "You're a good friend and a very promising junior agent but nothing more for me. I'm sorry if somehow I led you to think that I felt something more for you. It was never my intention." He flicked a glance toward the other side of the room. Time for a diversion. "Could you excuse me for a moment? I should answer the phone."

Sue bobbed her head quickly up and down but didn't open her mouth. He turned the wheelchair around and gave a couple of powerful pushes to reach the silent phone then he picked it up and went to the kitchen, never turning around. When he was sure that Sue could not see him anymore he let himself slump on the chair and rubbed his eyes with a trembling hand while the other was tightly gripping the phone. He had done the right thing. Then why did he feel so awful? He took a shuddering breath then went to the fridge. A couple of minutes later he was back in the leaving room, a tray with two glasses of cold tea on his lap.

"I brought some tea." He said unnecessarily when he reached the couch. "Do you want some?"

"Yes, thank you." Sue answered with a strained smile on her pale face. He averted his gaze and handed her a glass then took the other for himself and put the tray on the table. A moment later Levi's head was on his lap and he was petting it distractedly, his gaze fixed on the television screen, his ears attuned to every sound coming form the woman beside him and his mind occupied by only one thought. "I did it for her."

###

A couple of uncomfortable hours later he had gone to bed but couldn't sleep. It wasn't an unusual occurrence lately but this time what occupied his thoughts wasn't his condition or his mother's but Sue's face and her hurt expression. An expression _**he**_ had put on her face. He closed his eyes to keep the burning sensation there at bay and he must have fallen asleep because he found himself startled awake by a sudden loud sound. A glance to the alarm clock on his bedside told him that it was already morning. A moment later he heard it again. A sound he could recognize everywhere and that caused his heart to start hammering in his chest. Not even a whole minute later two men entered his room, their guns at the ready.

"Sir, we need you to come with us." One of them ordered in a calm but urgent voice while the other went to Jack's side.

"Who are you?" Jack asked, trying hard to stay calm.

"We're your bodyguards, sir. Special Agent Gans assigned us to your protection. Now, please, we need your cooperation, sir."

Jack let the agent near his bed help him to the wheelchair.

"We're going to bring you in the bathroom, sir. We're sorry but it's the only room without windows." One of the two agents informed him, his expression truly apologetic.

"Someone wants to tell me what is happening? I heard gunfire." Jack demanded, feeling more scared then he cared to admit, even to himself.

"Yes, sir." Said the one pushing his wheelchair. "Someone just shot at Miss Thomas and Special Agent Williams." The agent answered then closed the bathroom door behind him.

Jack kept staring at the door for a moment, his heart thudding in his chest and a loud buzz in his ears. He looked around himself for a moment, feeling dazed and light-headed then leaned sideways and threw up.

###

After hat felt like an eternity Jack started dry heaving, unable to stop his stomach from cramping convulsively and painfully. Slowly, very slowly, he managed to quell his stomach and slumped in the chair, exhausted. He closed his stinging eyes and rested for a minute, breathing heavily, then reopened them and looked around. Luckily enough the mess ha had done was limited to the tub. Leaning as far as he could he managed to open the water and wash the evidence of his sickness away then he took the cleaner from the cabinet near the sink and tried to clean the tub as best as he could. He sprayed some air-freshener in the air to try to cover the foul odour permeating the room. After a moment he started brushing his teeth, losing himself in the repetitive and familiar motion. His eyes glanced at the mirror in front of his face but he averted quickly his gaze. He couldn't bear to see his own face. When he finished all the menial task he could think of he found himself with his own thoughts. What was taking so long? Had Sue and Tara been seriously injured? Fatally? He had not heard any siren but he had to admit that he had been quite distracted. Maybe they had just been injured lightly and the paramedics were patching them up. Sue and Tara WERE NOT DEAD. Not this way. Not because of him. Not when his last words to Sue had been a painful lie. Why no one was coming to let him know what was happening? Had Capono managed to somehow neutralize, please not kill, all the people protecting him? Was he looking for him? Soon he would find him and he would have nowhere to escape, nothing to defend himself with. He looked around himself trying to find something, anything, to use against his aggressor. Desperate, he grabbed the air-refreshner with one hand and managed to grab the old-fashioned razor Allie had given him when they were just kids and he had had an obsession for the rough lifestyle of the cowboys. He looked down at his hands and let out a bitter chuckle. Oh yes. He was sooo scary with a dull blade in one hand and a citrus deodorant in the other! If Capono had a gun, and he had a gun, he was as good as dead. Like the others… He closed angrily his eyes, squeezing them tight until he could see tiny white sparks in the darkness, and took a deep breath. He couldn't keep thinking like this. He couldn't keep thinking. Period. So he opened his eyes and let them wander around the room. After a moment he started counting the tiles covering the walls of his bathroom. Seven hundred fifty. Then he started counting the tiny flowers painted on every single tile. Four thousand seven hundreds and fifty. He was just starting to find a pattern in the décor when he heard the sound of running footsteps approach his hiding spot. His heart started hammering in his chest, filling the silent room with its deafening rhythm, and his breathing became faster and uneven. He swallowed. _What_ he didn't know. His mouth was as dry as the Sahara desert.

"Jack!" Bobby's voice bellowed from somewhere in the house.

Jack started so violently that he found himself pushing the button under his finger and releasing some perfumed essence. He hastily put his improvised weapons away and opened the door finding himself face to face, not quite, with Bobby.

"How are Tara and Sue?" He asked immediately.

"Are you ok?" Bobby asked at the same time.

"I'm fine. How should I be? I've been closed in my bathroom!" There was no mistaking the frustration in his voice. "How are Tara and Sue?" He asked again, trying to ignore the pleading note in his voice and willing Bobby to do the same.

"Fine. They're both fine. Not even a scratch. If it was Capono he didn't even try to hit them."

"It was Capono. This was just another message. Did you catch him?" He asked hopefully.

"No, he was in a car. No plates."

"I want everyone I know under protection, Bobby. Everyone, you included."

"Don't worry, Sparky. That scumbag won't get near our girls again. I swear." Bobby promised, steel in his voice.

"Good." Jack commented. "Good. Now, if you could move a little I'd like to get out of the bathroom and get me a coffee."

Bobby obliged then entered the bathroom and closed the door behind him. Just to open it again a moment later and poke his head out.

"Why does it seem to be immersed in a lemonade?" He asked, both eyebrows raised.

"I was bored. I kept myself busy." Jack answered then wheeled away.


	40. Chapter 40

_A/N: Thank you for your replies. Just a rimender: this is a M rated story. This chapter is one of the reasons...  
_

* * *

The girls were fine. Not a scratch. Thank God! He couldn't bear the thought of losing them, Sue, because of him. Now, though, they were both fine and they would stay this way as long as they stayed away from his house, from him, and under protection. No more visits. No more lunches together. No more parties. Not until Capono was free to hurt the people he loved. Even Bobby should stay away from him if only Jack managed to convince him. Not just because of the risk of just being with him but because he didn't deserve to live in a windowless cage. _He_ deserved it, not Bobby. Bobby was a good man, a good agent who could still change the lives of many people. He, Jack Hudson, was just a cripple with a bulls-eye on the forehead, who put everyone around him in danger and who was good at nothing but having a panic attack in his bathroom while his friends risked their lives for him. A cripple who had been, and still was, truly terrified. Terrified like the old Jack Hudson had never EVER been. Another nail in the coffin of Special Agent Jack Hudson, team leader of one of the best teams in the FBI. He would never be that man again. He knew it. Everybody knew it. The difference was that the others were too polite to admit it to his face or too afraid to admit it to themselves. Or too busy trying to save his useless life. He, on the other hand, had had nothing but time in the last weeks. Time to think. Time to accept the reality of his condition. Time to understand what had to be done the moment Capono was apprehended. Time to understand what to say to Sue. What he had told her the night before had been painful but the right thing to say. Sue deserved better. Someone who could give her happiness and not sorrow, someone who could fill her life with joy and kids and not desperation and hospitals, someone who could protect her and not a sorry excuse of a man trembling hidden in a bathroom.  
A big hand on his shoulder startled him and he couldn't help the yelp that escaped his lips.

"Sorry, mate. I didn't want to scare you."

"I'm not…" _scared. You just startled me_ Jack thought. Those were the words the old Jack would have said, his tone indignant. Instead he let his voice fade away. The new Jack was scared.

"Lunch is ready." Bobby said, a concerned expression on his face.

"I'm not hungry." Jack replied. It was almost true. He could eat something but he didn't have the will to do it. Not now.

"You should eat, Jack. You have to keep up your strength or this afternoon Manny..."

"I'm. Not. Hungry." Jack repeated, his voice almost a growl.

"O-kay. You should at least get out of this room. You've been here for the whole morning." Bobby tried, worry and helplessness plain on his face. "You could make me company while I eat. Maybe then you'll get hungry."

"Leave me alone." Jack ordered, dislodging his friend's hand form his shoulder with a powerful shrug.

"Sparky, I don't think..."

"Leave me alone! Get out of my room!" Jack yelled, his face red with sudden fury.

He watched the hurt show for a moment on Bobby's face then he kept watching his friend as he backed away form the room and closed the door with an evident effort not to slam it.  
Once again alone in his room, Jack closed his eyes and listened to the exaggerated clatter coming from the kitchen, evidence of Bobby's mood. He felt tired, bone-weary. With a gargantuan effort he wheeled himself near the bed and transferred his uncooperative body to the mattress. He wasn't sleepy but he couldn't bear to spend another minute looking at the umpteenth ceiling. So he closed his eyes and let his mind free to wander, free to stop on every single thing he couldn't do anymore, free to punish him with images of the hurt, physical and not, he had caused his friends. Soon his breath evened out and the scattered images flashing in his head gave way to a scene he knew all too well.

_How he hated this parking lot. Beside him Bobby was fidgeting, knowing as Jack knew it that something was wrong but unable to put his finger on what was causing his unease. A moment later he found himself staring at the muzzle of an automatic weapon and, screwing his eyes shut, he launched himself toward an unaware Bobby, hoping against hope to be able to save him. He heard the gunfire but didn't feel the bullets impact with his body. He heard the screams, though. Screams that he had not heard the first time around. Screams he didn't want to hear ever again. He forced his eyes open and found himself staring at the bloody bodies of Bobby and … Sue? What was Sue doing there? She was safe in the van with the others… The gunfire had ceased and the parking lot was deserted except for him and the lifeless bodies of the people he cared the most. No, not lifeless. Bobby was moaning and Sue… she was trying to reach Bobby, leaving behind a frightening wide trail of blood. His dear, brave Sue… They were alive. They were hurt but could still be saved. As if they had suddenly felt his presence, both raised their gazes towards him._

_"Help us!" Sue cried, her face pale, almost translucent, and his body a bloody mess._

_"What are you waiting for?" Bobby asked, his voice little more than a whisper, his body surrounded by a sea of red. "Don't just stay there! Come and help us!"_

_"Save us, Jack. Please!" Sue pleaded._

_Jack started toward them but found himself rooted in place. He looked down and saw his legs disappear into the pavement, his feet somewhere under the surface. He looked around wildly. There was no one there to help Bobby and Sue, no one to help him. He looked towards his friends and saw them watching him, pleading silently for his help, their breaths coming in short gasps and their faces almost grey. He pushed with all the strength he had and pulled and twisted but nothing changed. He was soaked with sweat and his muscles ached for the inhuman efforts he was doing to free himself but his eyes were trained on his friends and his mouth kept up a whispered litany of reassurances that meant nothing to any of them._

_"Jack!" Sue whispered then widened her eyes when a man appeared beside her._

_Jack couldn't see who the man was but saw clearly the gun in his hand and heard the two shots that put a bullet on the forehead of each one of his friends, freezing their faces in a terrified expression and keeping their lifeless eyes trained on him. Jack raged and cried and screamed but he still couldn't move, not even his hands to wipe the tears wetting his face. A moment later he found himself face to face with a man in a wheelchair. A man with a face as familiar as his own. A face that, once the gun was pointed at Jack's face, blurred so that Capono's features were unrecognisable. A face that, once the finger on the gun curled on the trigger, smiled with Jack's own smile. Then the shot._

Jack gasped awake, his mouth wide open trying to gulp in air, his cheeks wet, his throat raw. The imposing figure of his best friend was hovering at the foot of the bed, his face the picture of worry.

"Are you ok?" Bobby asked, uncertainty in his voice.

Jack swallowed a couple of times and forced his heart to slow down. He couldn't talk but managed to shake hid head.

"Obviously not. That was a stupid question." Bobby berated himself. "Do you want…" He hesitated and Jack took another deep breath, his body now more under control. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"No." Jack breathed then coughed because his throat felt raw as if he had screamed for hours. A glass of water appeared in his hands, Bobby now on the side of the bed, his hand on Jack's shoulder. Jack drank.

"That was a heck of a nightmare, Jack. You should talk about it."

"There's nothing to talk about." Jack replied, thanking the Australian for the water with a nod. "I don't remember it."

"Jack, it's understandable to have nightmares after what you've gone through. If you don't want to talk to me than talk to Sue, to D, to a shrink but…"

"Crash, really. I don't remember a single thing of the nightmare. Really." He said, keeping his eyes on Bobby's, showing him his honesty. "I'm telling you the truth." And he was.


	41. Chapter 41

_A/N: Thank you for your replies. When you thought that it couldn't go any worse... Poor Jack!_

* * *

Manny had come and went, not even his stubbornness managing to win against Jack's. This for three days. Jack had stayed closed in his room the whole time, except for mealtime. Bobby had kept himself busy preparing meals that Jack barely touched, watching TV, playing videogames, trying unsuccessfully to wake Jack up from nightmares that left him screaming himself hoarse and crying in his sleep, trying to convince his way too pig-headed friend to do his exercises… He was bored. And worried. And a little angry. He didn't deserve the way Jack was treating him. He had become a recluse in this depressing house just for Jack. He had put aside his blooming relationship with Tara because he wanted to be with his best friend in such an awful time. He had put up with Jack's mood swings and had done things he ABSOLUTELY wasn't ready to do. All this without a second thought, sure in his conviction that he was doing the right thing. What if he was wrong, though? What if Jack needed someone else, someone more qualified? What if Jack didn't want him with him anymore? He had made it quite clear in the past days that he could barely bear his presence. Then again, after the nightmares, Jack seemed like his old self. At least for some minutes, just to return to be Jack's evil twin when the unexplainable terror the nightmares left behind subsided. That was the problem. Jack had not been like himself in the last days, not since Capono's attempt at the girls' lives. It had left him rattled, way more than anyone expected. Not even the good news about the approaching end of his financial problems, at least with regard to the insurance troubles, had put a dent on his bad mood. His only reaction had been: "Good". Then he had wheeled back to his room. Promising…  
Bobby's phone rang and he almost fell off the couch in his haste to grab it. He shook his head, a bitter expression on his face. He had to get out of this house. He glanced at the display and smiled slightly.

"Hey Myles, my friend! How are you?"

"How enthusiastic! Still in his room, uh?"

"Yeah, I swear I can't stand my voice anymore, mate."

"That makes two of us."

"Ah Ah. Funny. You shouldn't leave your day job, though."

"Make yourself as presentable as you can."

"Why?"

"I'm coming to relieve you for the night."

"Really?"

"Really. You need a break. Jack needs a break. Probably he's still closed in that room because he's tired of seeing your ugly face 24/7."

"Thanks, mate. I owe you."

"Yes, yes. I'll make sure to remind you of these words at the right moment. Now go make yourself less repugnant. There's a certain blonde agent here, not me, who keeps stealing glances at your desk."

"How much…"

"I'll be there in an hour."

"You're a friend, mate."

Ending the conversation Bobby reflected on how true those words were. During this ordeal Myles had shown his true colours. He had been ready, since the beginning, to help Jack any way he could. It was thanks to him that Jack could soon be financially independent again. He had also been a good listener for Bobby in the last days. Now this… Jack had always said that Myles was a good man. It was a pity that had to happen something so tragic for the others, himself included, to reach the same conclusion…  
Now, though, he had to take a shower.

###

Half an hour later the doorbell rang and Bobby ran to the door, his feet bare and his shirt open.

"You're early, mate." He said, smiling and peering from the peephole at the person at the other side of the door, his hand instinctively reaching for the gun on the table near the entrance. His smile, though, died immediately when he saw who was on the other side of the door. He opened the door wide. "Amy?"

The girl ignored him and entered the house, looking frantically around.

"Where is he?" She asked in a trembling voice.

"In his room." Bobby answered, closing the door and swallowing with difficulty. Amy's aspect, the fact itself that she was in Jack's house could mean just one thing…

She almost ran to Jack's room and threw open the door. Bobby followed her and saw her all but hurl herself into her brother's arms.

"Amy?" Jack's voice was little more than a whisper. "What are you doing here?" He asked, fear evident in his voice, even though his hands were tracing soothing circles on his sister's back.

"Mom's dead." She answered in a broken voice. "She's dead and you weren't there with her, with _me_. Mom's dead, Jack. She's dead. She's…" Her voice broke in a sob and the young woman buried her face in her brother's neck, her shoulders heaving.

Bobby saw Jack close his eyes, squeeze them shut, and swallow convulsively several times, all the while keeping up his comforting touch on his sister. He saw Jack open his mouth just to close it again a moment later, his chin trembling and his Adam's apple bobbing up and down, and then open it again.

"I'm sorry, Amy. I'm so sorry." He whispered in his sister's hair then opened moist eyes and locked them with Bobby's stinging ones, a message clear in them. Bobby nodded and exited the room, leaving the two grieving siblings alone, swallowing to make sure his voice was steady enough to talk to D.

###

"How did you arrive here?" Jack forced himself to ask once Amy's sobs had stopped. She was his responsibility and he had to take care of her now. He owed it to her to ignore the hand around his heart that had been squeezing it painfully since he had seen his sister in his room. "Did you come alone?"

She nodded.

"I took the first plane available. I didn't want you to know about it by phone." She answered, wiping away the tears wetting her face and rubbing her already reddened eyes.

"When…" He could ignore the ache in his chest, the stinging sensation in his eyes, the bile at the back of his throat but he could not bring himself to continue the question. Not if he wanted to still be coherent enough to care for his sister.

Amy glanced at her watch then raised her face.

"She died eight hours ago." She answered, understanding what her brother could not ask her. Jack forced himself to ignore the hitch in her voice.

"Dad? Is there someone with him?" Ha asked, because his mom had been his dad's life. What would happen of him, now?

"Aunt Julie brought him home with her."

"Good." He said, and then swallowed. "Good. He shouldn't be alone now."

He forced himself to train his wandering eyes on his sister's. There was so much sorrow in those big brown eyes, in that mouth made for laughing…

"I'm sorry." He whispered, his voice broken. "I'm sorry I wasn't there with you, with her…"

"Don't be." Amy said, shaking her head slowly. "I am sorry for what I said before. I know it wasn't your fault. Mom knew it. She was convinced that you were in danger. She was right, wasn't she? I saw the guards in your building; one stopped me when I reached your floor. What is going on?"

Jack could see the grief in her expression but also fear, for him, and a stubbornness he knew all too well. He hesitated just a moment then he decided to tell her the truth. She deserved to know. He needed her to know why he had not been there with them.

"The man who shot Bobby and me is still free and wants to kill me. I'm under protection. I couldn't be with you because I would have put you in danger. He threatened you. Believe me, if I could have…"

"I believe you, Jackie. I know it isn't your fault and mom never thought even for a moment that you didn't want to be with her. She was worried for you. She was afraid that you would not take care of yourself."

"Does dad know you were coming here?" Jack asked, because he could not bear to think that his mother's last words had been for him, for a son who had left her alone in fighting her biggest battle. When Amy nodded he asked her if she had called him to let him know that she had arrived. She shook her head and he found himself dialling the familiar number of his father's mobile phone.

"How's dad?" Amy asked once he closed the conversation.

"He's sleeping. The doctor gave him a mild sedative. He was too agitated and the doctor was worried for his heart. You should sleep a little, too." He suggested.

"I don't think I can sleep." She protested weakly.

"Just lie down on my bed and close your eyes. You look exhausted and we have difficult days ahead of us."

She gave a tiny nod and he helped her to settle under the covers. Then he turned the light off and closed the door behind him. He could do it. He could stay calm. He could ignore the deep ache in his chest, the way his heart seemed to constrict more and more and not expand enough. He just had to keep himself busy and care for Amy.

Bobby's voice startled him even if the man was clearly visible sitting on the couch in the middle of the room.

"I called D. He's coming. The others, too." He said, his tone grave.

"Thanks." Jack whispered.

"I'm so sorry, Sparky." The Australian said, his voice broken. "Your mom was a wonderful woman. I wish I could do or say something to help you. I…"

Jack closed his eyes and nodded slowly, not trusting his voice. After a minute he opened his eyes again and cleared his throat.

"Amy's resting in my room. I'm going to prepare a sandwich for her when she wakes up. Do you want something?"

"I can do it." Bobby offered, promptly getting up. Jack shook his head.

"No, I'll do it. I need… I'll do it. Thanks anyway. Do you want something?"

"A sandwich and some orange juice." Bobby answered, sitting again.

Jack just nodded then turned around and wheeled himself to the kitchen, all the while feeling the eyes of his best friend following his every move. Somehow, it was comforting.

###

Twenty minutes later the doorbell rang again. Bobby put the plate with his untouched sandwich on the table in front of the couch and hurried to open the door. The team entered slowly, their faces sombre. Once reached the living room the girls went to hug Jack while the guys offered their condolences and what comfort they could verbally. Jack accepted everything calmly, with few words and no outwards signs of emotion.

"I'm going to my mother's funeral." He announced the moment they were all seated. "I won't accept no for an answer."

"Jack, the AD won't …" D tried, his own voice without conviction.

"I really don't care whether the AD approves or not. Any way I'll be there." His voice was steely, his tone unyielding.

"He could order you not to go." Lucy objected, her tone hesitant.

"Not if I'm no more an FBI agent." Jack replied.

"What are you talking about?" Bobby asked.

"If he doesn't let me go I'll resign. He can't give orders to a civilian. He can't force me to stay under protection if I'm not under his orders anymore."

"You can't resign!" Bobby protested.

"Yes, I can and I'll do it. If not on this occasion then soon anyway. Staying at the FBI has never been an option."

"What the heck are you talking about now?" Bobby asked, anger and frustration warring on his face.

"I don't want to talk about it. Not now. So, please, back off. Now I need to think of Amy, of my dad, of the funeral… D, please, I need to be there, I wasn't with her when she fought the cancer nor when she died and God knows I won't **ever** forgive myself for this but I will be at her funeral and **nothing** and **no one** will stop me. I just ask you to help me."


	42. Chapter 42

_A/N: Thanks for reading and reviewing. _

* * *

Ten minutes later, D was on the phone pacing in the kitchen while the rest of the team was still sitting in Jack's living room in an awkward silence. Jack couldn't bring himself to look at them but could feel their stares on him. In the periphery of his vision he could see Bobby's leg bobbing up and down in an ever more frantic rhythm, a sign of the umpteenth inner turmoil Jack had caused in his friend. At least, though, _he_ could move his leg… As for Jack, he just felt spent, overwhelmed by grief, concern and desperation and dreaded the moment someone, probably Bobby, would call him on his previous words. He knew they were just looking out for him but they couldn't understand. Luckily for them. No one could understand. A month ago he was everything he had ever wanted to be, the only thing missing was a family but he had wanted to believe that it wasn't too late yet. Now, he had nothing. He _was_ nothing. That wasn't correct. He was an orphan. It seemed stupid because he hadn't been a kid for quite some time now but his mother had always been his moral compass and his biggest fan. Without her he felt lost, unbearably alone. He felt suffocated by grief. And rage. Rage at the AD because he was preventing him to do what he had to do, at Capono because it was his fault that he was so far away from his family, at his team because they weren't as supportive as he would have been if their roles had been reversed, at Bobby because he kept bouncing his leg up and down, at his mother because she had left him to fight alone. Above all, though, his rage was aimed at himself. He should never have accepted this case; he should have been more careful, more suspicious; he should have been faster in understanding the situation in that parking lot and in shoving Bobby away; he should have resigned the moment they told him he was paralysed but he had been too weak and truly, stupidly, hoped that he could take his life back. He closed his eyes wearily, massaging his chest to chase away the ache that his mother's death had caused. He was so tired…. He reopened his eyes a moment later when he heard the soft rustling sound of someone getting up and saw Sue walk toward the kitchen. His eyes followed her for a moment then, on their own accord, went looking for Bobby's gaze. Bobby's stormy gaze. Bad move. It seemed to be all the, unwilling, encouragement Bobby needed.

"What were you talking about earlier?" The Australian asked, his voice tight.

For just a moment Jack played with the idea to act dumb but the controlled fury in his friend's eyes convinced him it would not have been wise. He sighed deeply.

"You know as well as I do that I won't ever walk again." He began only to be interrupted by his friend.

"You don't know it. You _can't_ know it, yet. It has been less than a month since you've been shot four times. Four times, Jack! You can't possibly expect to bounce back from something like this in a couple of weeks!"

"I know perfectly well what happened to me and when." Jack all but growled. "And I know that I won't walk again. By now I should have started to have some feeling back in the legs if I was going to heal. And I assure you that Nothing. Is. Happening."

"The doctors …"

"The doctors are wrong! I know my body. I know what I feel and what I can't feel. So, if the AD won't give me the ok I'll resign immediately from the FBI. If, instead, he agrees, I'll wait after the burial to resign. Either way, at the end of the week I won't be an agent anymore. It's the best decision."

"The heck it is!" Snapped Bobby. "Even if you can't walk anymore, and it's still a big IF, you can still be an agent, you can still be our team leader. You wouldn't be the first."

"He's right." Tara said. "You're a great team leader and detective and you don't need your legs to do your job."

"And send you in situations where I can't be? Order you to do things that I can't do? Put you in danger when I can't be there with you? Watch every single day each one of you living the life I can't live anymore?" He blinked back tears of frustration that threatened to spill over. "No, I'll go home, in Wisconsin, and I'll become a lawyer like my father wanted."

This shocked the whole room into silence. Jack dared to glance toward Bobby but the raw emotions in his eyes - hurt, betrayal, compassion - hit him like a sledgehammer right in the middle of his chest. If he didn't die of a heart attack immediately he never would.  
Then D was there.

###

Jack closed his eyes and, without realising it, held his breath while D sat down, followed by Sue.

"The AD agreed." The older agent said and Jack exhaled. "At one condition, though." At this Jack opened his eyes and fixed his gaze on D's face. D met his stare without hesitation. "He agrees only if you accept not to resign for the next three months." The challenge in D's gaze was unmistakable.

"Why?" Jack asked quietly, his eyes shifting to study Sue's face. Was that a guilty expression?

"He didn't tell. He just wants you to stay until the end of the year. Probably something bureaucracy-related. In January you'll be a free man."

D's tone was studiedly casual but Jack just kept his gaze trained on Sue's until the blond analyst lowered her eyes. Yep. Guilt.

"Working with me has been a bad influence on you, Sue. You didn't use to be so devious." He spoke with a smile to soften the sting of his words. He could have kept quiet but he didn't want to let them believe that they had played him. He knew exactly what they were doing. The problem was, though, that he didn't have a choice, not really. And they knew it. "Ok." He said with a slight nod. "Any other conditions or restrictions?"

"No, you've been given carte blanche."

"Just don't' think you can keep us out." Bobby warned.

Jack glowered in his direction then wheeled himself away from the group to take a look at his sister and to have some moments alone to think things through. A couple of minutes later his sister was still sound asleep and he knew what he had to do.

"Ok. This is what we'll do. Tomorrow Amy will go back home by plane. Tara, Sue, I want you to go with her and protect her. I don't think Capono will do anything to her with me on the move but better safe than sorry. I'll leave tomorrow early in the afternoon by car. I want Capono to know that I'm out of hiding."

"Are you crazy?"

"You're kidding, right?"

Myles and Bobby said at the same time, an incredulous expression on both their faces.

"No. To both of you. I want Capono to make a move. I have to end this charade."

"You'll be a sitting duck." Myles protested.

"No, I'll be a moving duck with a lot of protection. I don't have any intention to let someone else get hurt because of Capono and me. We'll be careful but we'll force Capono to come out to play."

"If you're sure about this crazy plan then I'll be in that car with you." Bobby announced.

"And me, too." Myles added.

"And me." A third voice said, its tone soft but determined.

"No, Sue. I want you with my sister."

"Tara will be with her. I won't be needed. It's not like I can really protect her since I don't have a gun. Myles would be more appropriate. Or Bobby."

"You won't need a gun if you go with Amy." He assured.

"So, you're sending me away just to keep me safe." Her expression was sceptical but there was also something else. Was she testing him? And what the heck meant "just to keep me safe"? What other reason there could be? Maybe she thought that he was punishing her… Or was she just trying to understand if something had changed between them? Had something changed? Well, her stubbornness sure had remained the same…

"I'm not sending you away. I'm trusting you with my sister's life. You don't need a gun to protect her. You're the most observant person I've ever known. If something is amiss you'll notice. Tara has a gun and I trust her skills with it." His eyes strayed briefly to Tara to make sure that she understood how deep that trust was. When she nodded with a determined expression on her face he returned his gaze to Sue. "And yes. I want you _both_ to be safer than you'd be with me. Capono already tried to kill you once. I'd like to avoid giving him another chance to succeed. If I trusted someone else I'd keep all of you as far away from me as I could. _All_ of you. I can't, though, because there's no one I trust more than the people in this room." He paused for a moment to let his words sink in then he resumed to talk. "Now, where were we?"

"We told you you're crazy." Myles supplied with a tiny smirk.

"Right. Thanks by the way."

"And I told you I'd be in the car with you and, apparently, Myles." Bobby added.

"Ok. We'll have two more cars as a back up. D, I trust you to choose the people for this job, two for each car and only volunteers. The cars will have to be all the same and we'll change positions in the convoy during the trip. I want Capono to come out but I don't want to make it too easy for him. D, you'll go to Wisconsin as soon as possible to supervise security for my family and for the funeral. If nothing happens while we travel to Wisconsin then Capono will probably act the day of the funeral when I'll be again vulnerable. Again, we'll move as a convoy but this time the car where I'll be will have to be easily distinguishable. I don't want anyone hurt by mistake. Myles, D, if you want, you'll be in the car with me. Sue, Tara, you'll be in the car with my sister and father. Bobby, I want you to drive that car."

"Jack, I…" Bobby started to protest but was immediately interrupted by Jack.

"Please, Crash. Not you too." Jack said, his voice sharp but his eyes pleading.

Bobby gave a jerky nod in acceptance but it was clear that the matter was far from over. Great. Exactly what he needed.

"Since I can't help with the protection I'd like to help you with the organization of the funeral. If you want my help, obviously." Lucy proposed.

"I could really use some help. Thank you." He let his grateful expression tell all the things he couldn't bring himself to say.

"Ok." D exclaimed after a moment, clapping his hands on his legs and then getting up. "I don't know about you all but I have a couple of very busy days ahead and I'd like to get started on all the things I have to do. I'll call you tomorrow, Jack. Hopefully, directly form Wisconsin. Give a kiss to Amy for me."

Soon the house was again silent with Amy still sleeping and Jack and Bobby lost in their own thoughts. Suddenly Bobby shifted and Jack tensed in reaction.

"Why don't you want me with you in Wisconsin?" The Australian asked, his voice tentative.

"Crash, don't be stupid. I want you in Wisconsin with me. You'll be in Wisconsin with me." Jack replied, his voice clearly annoyed. He was tired of people questioning his decisions. How could they think that he could keep doing his job after all this when they already didn't trust him as they did before? Didn't they see that everything had already changed?

"You know what I mean." Bobby said, annoyance in his voice too. "Why don't you want me in the car during the funeral? We both know that Capono will attack that day. Don't you trust me anymore?"

Jack almost snorted. Trust. That was the whole point, wasn't it? He raised his eyes and was taken aback by the vulnerable expression on his best friend's face. That, too, was Capono's fault.

"Crash, stop beating yourself up for the shootout. It. Wasn't. Your. Fault. I trust you, believe me."

"Then why won't you trust me with your life?"

"Because I'm trusting you with something way more important than my life, Crash. The most important people of my life will be in that car." He didn't give Bobby a chance to reply and started wheeling himself towards his room. "I never stopped trusting you. Why don't _you_ trust _me_ anymore?"

The sound of Jack's bedroom door closing covered Bobby's protests.


	43. Chapter 43

_A/N: Thank you for your reviews. More misery for poor Jack and company._

* * *

Everything was ready. Amy was already in Wisconsin with Sue, Tara and D who had managed to find four trusted people who had volunteered to risk their lives for Jack's. All this during the night. Jack, somehow, was able to swallow the lump that his friend's dedication and his colleagues' loyalty had brought right there in the middle of his throat. He knew that this feat had been possible mostly because right now Capono was one of the most hated people in the FBI, because betraying the FBI and its men was the worst crime a colleague could do, but still… He was moved. Gosh! He was an emotional wreck! In the last days he had felt like on a roller coaster with so many ups and downs that he was starting to feel queasy. He was feeling a little guilty too because he had brought Bobby along for the ride. When the object of his thoughts came in the room bringing two small suitcases Jack rolled his eyes at the sombre expression on his friend's face. He couldn't believe he was still sulking! Apparently he had not taken well the door closed in his face the night before nor Jack's "_I really don't care right now_" when he had tried to explain himself during breakfast. Go figure…

"So." He started conversationally. "How are things going between you and Tara?" Ha asked.

He saw Bobby's face come up sharply from checking the conditions of his gun and saw his mouth open to say something just to snap closed a moment later, jaws working furiously in an annoyed face. Jack kept watching him as Bobby took a deep breath and visibly forced himself to stay calm and collected. What had caused such an intense reaction to such a neutral, as it intended to be, question? Then it dawned on him that Bobby had never left his house, except for the night of his birthday, and that that had probably killed their blooming relationship. This was his fault, too. Probably, that was exactly what Bobby had started to tell him but had managed, barely, to keep for himself because of his almost dog-like loyalty towards him. On the other hand, it's not like he had forced him to be his shadow. On the contrary, he remembered quite clearly that in the hospital he had asked to be left alone. No one had listened to him and this was the result. A bunch of short-tempered people forced to stay together. The trip to Wisconsin promised a lot of fun! The only upside he could find in all this situation was that at least now his team was starting to realize what he already knew: nothing was the same anymore.

"Things are going well. Thanks." Bobby's answer couldn't have been more neutral and after his initial reaction it was anticlimactic. Jack would have preferred if Bobby had shouted right to his face what he thought. That way, at least, Jack could pretend just a little longer that their friendship wasn't changing, perhaps slowly dying. Another victim of Capono's actions and, ultimately, of Jack's own actions.

After answering, Bobby had disappeared out of the door of the house but returned five minutes later, his face determined.

"We'll go down with the wheelchair." The Australian instructed in a no-nonsense voice. "Once at the car, which is right in front of the door, I'll pick you up and put you in the car. We can't afford the time you'd need to do it by yourself."

So that was the cause of the resolute expression. Bobby expected Jack to protest. Jack, though, had no intention to do it. His stubbornness would only put people in danger unnecessarily. Anyway, what had he to lose? His dignity? He had lost what remained of it the moment Bobby had had to help him out of the shower.

###

Ten minutes later they were in the car and were travelling towards Jack's home in Wisconsin, Myles at the wheel and Bobby in the passenger seat while Jack was in the backseat near the left window, directly behind Myles. After a couple of pitiful attempts from Myles to start a conversation, a heavy silence fell on the three men and Jack's thoughts went inevitably to his mother, for the first time since his sister's arrival. During the past days, after his mother's death, he had kept himself focused on what he had to do, first to go to his mother's funeral then to keep everyone safe while, hopefully, catching Capono. No time for his mind to bring him back to happier times, to a mostly serene childhood, sheltered by a wonderful mother who, way too often, had been forced to face everything alone because her husband's job kept him away from home. They say that when you're going to die you see your life flash before your eyes. Jack didn't agree. When he had been shot his mind was too preoccupied in trying to evaluate the situation to linger in the past. It was those who were left behind, like him now with nothing to do but sit and wait, who had to face the fast-forwarded version of the life of the ones they had lost. So, when his mind was assaulted by images of his life with his mother, when it lingered on all the words he hadn't said and those he regretted to have said, he let his eyes slid close and let the memories flood his mind, each one shattering his heart just a little more. Soon, lulled by the silence in the car and exhausted by the emotional toll of the last days, he fell asleep. He didn't realize when the memories ended and sleep claimed him nor when the absolute darkness receded and the nightmares came.

###

Bobby shot a glance at the backseat where his best friend was still immersed in thought then beyond it to the two identical cars following them. As per Jack's orders the positions of the three cars had to be switched often. Right now it was their turn to head the little convoy. So far so good. No signs of Capono. Or even a traffic jam. The transfer was going as well as they could hope except, obviously, for the heavy atmosphere in their car that, ironically, had absolutely nothing to do with them being sitting ducks in a vehicle that a rogue agent with good connections could eliminate with just a finger. Poor Myles had… Wait. Poor Myles? Was this what Jack had reduced him to? Commiserating Leland? Another reason to be annoyed with Jack. Together with his stubbornness, his sudden mood swings and his unfairness. That was the most unbalancing of Jack 's new traits. Jack had always been stubborn, proud and impulsive but he had always been also, and most importantly, a just man, someone reasonable, ready to give you a second chance and then a third one if you deserved it or even if you just tried very hard to deserve it. Half of the team was there thanks to this innate sense of justice of his. Now it had apparently disappeared, the biggest sign that things had changed like Jack kept repeating. What annoyed him the most was exactly this. Jack was right and he shouldn't be. Things had changed and they shouldn't have. All the team had been treating Jack differently since the shootout. It wasn't done on purpose. It was just their protectiveness getting the better of them. It wasn't that they didn't trust him anymore, like Jack had accused them of, but that they wanted to put him behind them all to create a barrier between him and the world that had so unjustly mistreated him in the last months. How could you explain something like this to Jack, as independent and proud as they come, when they themselves had trouble recognizing that Jack now needed this protection that they had instinctively offered?  
He glanced again at the backseat and noticed that Jack was sleeping even though his face was contracted in a frown.

"He has been asleep for the last thirty minutes." Myles supplied in a whisper.

Half an hour? Already? He couldn't believe he had zoned out for so long!

"I hope he keeps sleeping till Wisconsin. He needs it. He has been having trouble sleeping lately and I don't think he got more than a couple of hours last night."

"Did he see a psychologist?" Myles inquired splitting his attention between the road and the rear-view mirror.

"Well, I know that he talked to the psychologist sent by the hospital when he woke up but I don't know if there had been more meetings since then. I can guarantee, though, that no psychologist set foot in his apartment."

"Maybe he…"

"No. Jack won't agree to go to the shrink. Anyway, I said that no psychologist came to his apartment but this doesn't mean that a psychologist doesn't know what is going on with our Sparky."

"Care to elaborate, Manning?"

Bobby shot a glance at Jack who was becoming more restless by the second, then resumed the visual surveillance of their surroundings while Myles let the two other FBI cars surpass theirs.

"I'm keeping informed the hospital psychologist on Jack's conditions. I was worried he had PTSD. You know, the mood swings…"

"Mood swings? What mood swings?" Myles asked, trying and not quite managing to appear confused. "Ah, do you mean his Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde routine? Those exciting moments when the evil twin of our ol' Sparky comes out to play?"

"Yeah…" Bobby drawled.

"I barely noticed them."

Bobby snorted then shot a quick look to the backseat, worried he had woken Jack up. He hadn't but he was starting to think that maybe sleeping was not the best thing for Jack right now, judging by the ever more frantic movements of his upper body. His lower body stood rock still, though, mocking them all.

"Rrrright… Anyway, I was worried and contacted him. He told me that they had to be expected because Jack was going through a lot, a life-altering trauma he called it, and that his emotions right now were bound to be all over the place. When the sleepless nights and the nightmares added to the mix he told me to keep an eye on him. He also told me that if in a couple of weeks, considering also the recent loss of his mother, the situation didn't change that I had to convince Jack to see a psychologist or…"

"Good luck!"

"… Or to drag him there against his will. His words, not mine."

"I like this psychologist." Myles commented.

"Yeah. Me too." Bobby agreed slowly, his whole attention on his best friend who was whispering something.

"Can you hear what he's saying?" Myles asked. At Bobby's negative answer he swore under his breath. "Where is Thomas when you need her?" He grumbled.

"As far away from Jack as he can keep her." The Australian replied while almost climbing over to the backseat to try and understand what his best friend was muttering. He started when Jack shouted his name and then Sue's.

"Maybe we should wake him up." Myles suggested, even if he didn't seem entirely convinced that it was the right thing to do.

"I don't know, mate."

And then Bobby saw the tears running silently down his best friend's cheeks, his face scrunched up in sorrow.

"Ok. That's enough. I'm waking him up." Bobby announced.

It took some manoeuvring but Bobby managed to squeeze his lanky frame between the driver and the passenger seat and let himself fall gracelessly on the backseat beside his friend.

"Jack." He called in a soft voice so as not to startle the man but he didn't obtain anything. Tears kept wetting Jack's face, his harsh breathing the only sounds coming out of Jacks' mouth now. Bobby shot a worried and slightly panicked look in the rear-view mirror where Myles' own concerned gaze was fixed. How the heck he had not yet wrapped them all around a street lamp was beyond Bobby since he kept finding the Bostonian's gaze locked on them every time he looked away from Jack.

"Do you want me to pull over?" Myles asked, his phone already open to warn the other agents of the change in the program.

"Not yet." Bobby answered before almost shouting to Jack to WAKE. UP. Nothing.

Worried, the Australian shifted on the seat so that he was almost on Jack's lap and shook his friend with enough force to rock the whole car. This seemed to do the trick. Jack's eyes snapped open and after a moment they focused on Bobby's face even though there was confusion in them.

"Now!" Bobby barked upon seeing the colour drain from his friend's face.

"Now what?" Myles shouted back, his eyes shifting back and forth between the road and the rear-view mirror.

"Pull over! Right now!" Bobby yelled panicked, scrambling to open the door even though the vehicle had not stopped completely, yet.

A moment later Jack was gagging and spitting just outside the vehicle, his upper body half hanging from the car, the rest of his body kept on the seat by Bobby's solid grip. When Jack threw an arm behind himself and grabbed hold of the fabric of Bobby's shirt, the Australian hauled him up.

"Are you ok, mate?" He asked, wincing at the stupidity of the question and closing his eyes in anticipation of Jack's glare. When he opened them again Jack was watching him with a disturbing intensity.

"Bad dream." Jack rasped finally, blinking slowly and raising a hand to his cheeks. The surprise evident on his face when it came away wet was quickly replaced by embarrassment that deepened when, lowering his eyes in shame, he realized he was still holding on Bobby's arm with a bruising grip. He let go as if scalded.

"No kidding." Bobby commented with a nervous smile. "Can you remember it?"

"No." Jack answered quickly, immediately diverting his gaze from his best friend's face thus confirming Bobby's suspicions. Jack was lying to him. It hurt. A lot. Maybe because it had never happened before. Or maybe because it was another prove, the umpteenth one in the last days, that things weren't like they used to be and that they surely weren't improving.  
He just hoped that Capono, when they caught him, would resist to the arrest. He just needed one moment and he was sure that everyone on the team would cover for him. Myles for sure, judging by the murderous look he was sporting. Probably even Sue if she knew the true extent of what Jack was going through. That was a sobering thought. Things could not have changed that much. Could they?


	44. Chapter 44

_A/N: Thanks for your kind replies. Here's the next chapter. Remember that this story is rated __M. There's a dramatic event regarding a child in this chapter. Just a warning._

_

* * *

_

Sue walked slowly around the room, her fingers itching to touch but not daring to. She stopped in front of a photograph of Jack and his mother and she took it with her when she sat on the bed. During the flight Amy and her had talked. A lot. Well, Amy had talked and Sue had mostly listened, with her heart if not with her ears. The young woman had obviously talked about her mother but then her thoughts had gone to her brother and she had told Sue how special the relationship between their mother and Jack really was.

_"They say that parents love their children without bias" She had started. "That a parent can't have a favourite amongst his or her children. That's not true. At least not always. Jack is… was… my mother's favourite. That's ok. I'm my father's and thanks to this I've never felt any jealousy toward Jack. Oh, my mother made a point of treating both her children exactly the same but she and Jack shared a special bond, they had a complicity that my mother and I never reached and not for lack of trying from both sides. The main reason for this is that Jack, as my mom used to say, saved her life. When a couple of years had passed from their wedding and no children had arrived, my parents started to worry that something was wrong and to accept that maybe they could not be blessed with a child of their own. Then my mother got pregnant. You can imagine their joy. Roughly nine months later my sister was born. She was healthy and perfect but she was a handful, especially for a couple at their first child. She died three years later in a stupid domestic accident. She fell down the stairs after she had managed somehow to get out of her cradle, open the door of her room and take out the fence my father had put in front of the stairs exactly to prevent such a tragedy. It was night and both my parents were sleeping. They found her the morning after. They were obviously devastated and they drifted apart, each one drowning in their own grief, both feeling responsible for what had happened. My father buried himself in his work. My mother sank in a deep depression. Three months later she found out she was pregnant. She started to care for herself again; she forced herself to pull out of her depression because she couldn't lose another child. Five months later Jack was born and my mother started living again. My father kept his distance, scared of the possibility of more sorrow. This is the second reason for the special relationship between Jack and our mother. Jack grew up for the first five years of his life as the son of a single parent with a part-time dad that came home every night and disappeared in the morning. Then I arrived. At that point my father had resumed his role as a husband if not as a dad but by then Jack was his mom's son. With me my father had his own second chance, the possibility to do all the things he had not been able to do with my sister and had not wanted to do with Jack. Don't get me wrong, dad loves Jack and Jack loves dad but with mom it was different. This is why I'm so worried for him. I have to stay with my father and you, you have to care for Jackie, Sue. Please."_

Like it was a simple thing to do! Nothing with Jack was simple. Sue sighed dejectedly and got up to put the photo back where she had found it even if her eyes stayed on the picture for a couple of minutes more. Jack was so carefree in that image. It intrigued her to have the chance to see Jack before he had entered her life. He was happy and proud while posing with his mother in a one-armed hug, an expression mirrored on his mother's face, their free hands busy holding a big, golden cup. He didn't seem very different from the man she had met, and berated, on her first day at the FBI. He was a universe away from the broken man she had left in Washington the evening before. Unable to resist a minute longer she made a last tour of the room, Jack's old bedroom, and touched every surface she could reach just to feel Jack closer. His hockey trophies, the photo of his graduation, photos with his friends, with his sister and father, a collection of rocks, books, music tapes… everything spoke of Jack, of a Jack she feared she had lost forever. When she turned she found herself face to face with a pale, very tense and very distraught Jack. How long had he been there?

"What are you doing here?" He asked. She couldn't tell if he was angry or not. He just seemed weary and on the verge of a break down.

"Amy told me I could come in. I… I just wanted to… I…" I just wanted to feel you close, to know you more, to understand you better. She thought all this but not a word escaped her lips.

"Get out." Jack ordered, his chin trembling and his eyes overly bright. There was no venom in his words, just desperation. It was clear to Sue even if she couldn't hear his voice.

She nodded slowly and started toward the door. And him. When she reached and then surpassed him his hand shot out and grabbed her wrist in an almost painful grip. She turned toward him and saw his shaking shoulders and his bowed head and her heart broke for him. She retraced her steps, took a hold of his desk chair with a foot and dragged it beside Jack's wheelchair. When she sat down she leaned toward Jack and pulled him in a fierce hug that he reciprocated, his tears damping her shirt and his sobs shaking them both. She kept stroking his back and his hair until his sobs ceased and he lifted red-rimmed eyes to her face. And then he was leaning toward her and was kissing her, sensually, passionately, desperately, his lips bruising hers, his hands encasing her face in a gentle but firm grip. She found herself responding in kind, her own hands roaming his back and face and her tongue searching his in a heated onslaught of passion. They parted a couple of minutes later, both slightly panting and both looking dishevelled. She saw him swallow and felt the chill where his hands had been just a moment before.

"I'm sorry." He said after having cleared hi voice. "I shouldn't have…"

"No, no. It's … It's okay. Really." Sue hastened to assure.

"I… you should go now." He said, his face again closed, his expression again weary, a wariness that wasn't there before now emanating form his whole body.

Was this her fault? Had she had this effect on him? Her bleak thoughts and his curt dismissal cut her deeply and she felt another chunk of her heart, another big chunk, shatter in a thousand of pieces. She nodded, though, and after getting up she put the chair at its place and exited the room.

"Rest well, Jack." She whispered, closing the door behind her and squeezing her eyes shut to keep her own tears from spilling on her face and her sobs from taking form. She doubted that her heart could take much more. She would give it a try, though. For Jack.

###

Tara found Bobby stiffly sat on the porch swing in the veranda at the back of Jack's childhood house. His gaze was fixed on the horizon and it was clear that his mind was miles away. She sighed softly and walked slowly to him as not to startle him. She knew the moment he realised he wasn't alone anymore because he stiffened even more. How was it even possible? If he kept this up he would shatter in a million of tiny pieces at the first gust of wind.

"You look exhausted." She declared, circling around him once and then placing herself behind him.

"Because I am." He answered in an exhale, relaxing slightly on the porch swing.

She didn't even try to hide the small smile that had suddenly appeared on her face. It's not that she was happy he was exhausted. What her subconscious was celebrating was that Bobby had relaxed once he had realised who was with him. She had had that effect on him and it gave her a thrill. Man, but she had it bad!

"Why is that?" She asked putting her hand strategically on his shoulders and starting kneading the tense hard muscles underneath.

"Jack had a restless trip so **we** had a restless trip." He answered tiredly. "He's having trouble…"

"Shush. Stop talking about Jack. We were talking about you."

After almost a whole minute of silence she cuffed him lightly on the back of the head.

"Ow! What was that for?" He protested while trying to reach the injured spot without dislodging Tara's hands.

"No thinking about Jack, either." She reprimanded, stopping for a moment her massage and placing a small kiss where her hand had hit him earlier. "There. Now it's all better, isn't it?" She asked, leaning a little over his shoulder to see his face.

"Well… It' is indeed better. There. I may need your assistance elsewhere, though…"

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Where?"

"See, when you hit me so cruelly you startled me and I'm afraid I bit my tongue."

"Oh, poor baby." She mock-pouted, her eyes twinkling in response to the gleam in Bobby's eyes. "And you want me to make it all better, don't you?"

"Mmmm." He replied, a lazy smile on his lips.

"Then…" She started, slowly circling around the swing and bending toward Bobby so that she was eye level with the Australian. "I'll be forced to…" She leaned a little more toward him… "Go get you a bucket of ice chips." She concluded quickly, straightening abruptly with a smile and turning around.

She let out a squeal when she felt two strong hands pull her at the waist and found herself in Bobby's lap, oscillating back and forth with the swing's motion.

"A whole bucket?" He inquired with a dimpled smile and both eyebrows raised.

She couldn't speak anymore. Not with him so near. Formulate a coherent thought was also out of the question, at least until he kept holding her captive with his hands and his eyes. She kept her gaze fixed on his face, though her eyes kept studying the features she had missed so much in the last day, but managed to nod a couple of times. When his gaze mirrored the intensity in hers and his tongue darted out to moist his lips, his incredible lips, always so ready to smile and tease… she cleared her throat and wetted her own lips.

"I thought you needed to cool down a little." She managed to whisper, her gaze still darting, shifting between his eyes and his mouth, unsure on which one was the feature she preferred. Then his mouth moved.

"It might not be a bad idea, luv." He murmured.

She saw the effort he put in forcing his eyes away from her face and managed to do the same, albeit with a heavy heart. This was not the time for this kind of things, not with a funeral and possibly, luckily, an arrest looming in their very near future and with a broken friend only a couple of walls behind them. She climbed down from Bobby's lap and sat on the seat of the swing then patted her thigh. She smiled when he complied with her silent request and chuckled when he woofed softly with a lop-sided smile.  
A moment later she was threading her fingers through his hair, talking nonsense with Bobby who was stretched on the swing with his legs dangling form its arm and his head on her lap. His head, she noticed, became more and more heavy with each passing minute until he was so relaxed that he started answering to her questions with mumbled monosyllables. Then he stopped answering altogether but she kept massaging his scalp with a hand, the other still held deliciously prisoner between his chest and his hand. Right now he needed more a friend, someone who could care for him, than a lover. She was not a patient person but she would wait for him. Besides, judging by the emotions she had seen chasing each other in his eyes, she didn't have long to wait. Luckily for him! It wasn't very flattering that he kept falling asleep on her!


	45. Chapter 45

_A/N: Thank you for your kind words. They make me blush. Short chapter. Soon things will get interesting..._

* * *

Gosh! He was so confused! Only two things were clear in his mind. The sorrow for his mother's death and the knowledge that he had been a jerk with Sue. Again. The problem was that the confusion he was feeling originated all from the same thing: Sue and what he felt toward her. When he had seen her in his room, slowly walking around, trying to study his life... it had felt right. Nothing had felt so right before in his life, not even the day he had become a FBI agent. His mind, and his heart, had not registered her presence in his room as something inappropriate and intrusive or as a surprise. It had just seemed the most natural place for her to be. In his room, with him. It had felt so perfect that his carefully built walls had started to crumb and he had done the only thing his mind was able to suggest: he had pushed her away. Then, when she was leaving his room, leaving **him**, her scent had reached his nostrils and he was lost in the memory of a stolen kiss and of unforgettable moments of his life, all of them possible only because Sue had been with him. So his last bricks had collapsed and he had reached for her and she had offered herself without reserve and he had felt sure and safe. For just a moment. Until he had realized that he was dragging Sue down with him, the very reason why he had been keeping her at arm's lenght in the last weeks. And he had pushed her away again. A lot more successfully, this time. The kiss, though, had been indescribable. He had been rough, desperate and needy and he had been surprised to find a matching disperation in her response. She had met him kiss for kiss, stroke for stroke, again forcing him to be the reasonable one and to make the wisest decision for the both of them. Then, why nothing had ever felt so wrong in his life as the moment she had left the room? His room, the only place where he had felt completely safe in his life. His room that now wasn't the safe heaven he had expected it to be. Instead, every corner, every surface was now a reminder of what he had lost and he was feeling more then slightly claustrophobic. He couldn't face anyone now, though. Not Sue, not his father and not Bobby. Not after that incident in the car. Not when he knew that Bobby knew he had lied to him. What could he have done, though? Tell him the truth? Tell him that just a moment before he had seen his best friend and Sue dying before his eyes? Tell him that for a couple of seconds the lifeless face of his nightmare had erased the worried face of the reality? Because in that car, for just that couple of seconds, nightmare and reality had collided and he had lost it. So he could not face Bobby, not yet; and he could not talk with him about this, not ever. Therefore, he stayed in his room, awake, unable to close his eyes for fear that the nightmare returned, and spent the night remembering a dead person so as not to think about the death of two very much alive people.  
Morning arrived an eternity later and with it came a knock on the door. Jack invited whoever it was to come in. Or maybe not. He wasn't sure. He was in that trance-like state in which you're not quite sleeping but you're not quite awake, either. The heavy, albeit slightly trembling, hand on his shoulder startled him so it was a safe bet that he had not opened his mouth.

"Have you slept at all, son?" His father asked.

Jack raised his gaze to the man beside him and almost gasped out loud at the sunken face that greeted him. His father was pale with puffy red-rimmed eyes and dark, long shadows under them; the usually carefully combed hair were askew and a white stubble hid the strong jaw. The problem was that nothing about the man before his eyes seemed strong. Not anymore, possibly never again.

"Sure." Jack replied in a croak then cleared his throat. "You?" He asked in a still too deep voice.

"Slept like a baby." His father answered with a small quirk of his lips. Jack smirked back.

Mr. Hudson sat down on the edge of the bed and the two men stayed in silence for several minutes.

"The bed is too big." The older man said out of the blue, his voice tremulous.

Jack swallowed thickly but kept quiet, his gaze fixed on the hung head of the man in front of him.

"I put the dirty coffee cup in the sink and for a moment I was sure that your mother would have berated me for not having put it in the dishwasher. No one said anything, though." He closed his eyes and put his hands on his face. "I miss her so much already!" He lamented in a broken voice. "I know I've not been the husband she deserved or the father **you** deserved but..."

"Don't say that, dad." Jack interrupted. "You've been a wonderful husband and a great father. Mom loved you very much. She told me so a couple of weeks before my incident." When he was sure he had his father's full attention, Jack continued. "She wished me to find a woman who loved me as much as you loved her. She said that if I was as lucky as she had been I would live a wonderful life. Like she had."

Jack averted his gaze when he saw a tear run down his father's face, wanting to give his dad some sort of privacy.

"Have you?" His father asked after a couple of minutes.

"Have I what?" Jack asked back, perplexed.

"Found a woman who loves you."

For just a moment Jack was tempted to answer his father's question with a resounding yes and then tell him all the things about Sue that he had fallen for. For just a brief, selfish moment.

"No, not yet." He said instead.


	46. Chapter 46

_A/N: Thank you for your kind replies. Did someone ask for Capono?_

_

* * *

_

Bobby shifted the curtains a little and peeked out of the window the check that the guys outside were ready. They were. As they had been for the last twenty minutes and at least as many checks. Maybe he was a little nervous... He almost laughed out loud at how ridiculous an understatement it was. There were so many things that could go wrong in Jack's plan that if he wasn't sure that Jack, considering his mood, would shoot him right there and then, he would slap his friend silly. **This** was a very bad idea. Too many unknowns, too many liabilities and way too many civilians. The only thing sure about this whole affair was that Capono was a deadly foe. Not exactly a good start for a mission and for this in particular since the intended victim was quite clearly at a disadvantage. He wasn't sure that the fifteen or so civilians in the Hudsons' living room really understood the risks they were going to face. Most of them probably didn't even remember why they all wore kevlar vests under their black clothes. They were too overcome by grief. The only civilian who appeared clearly nervous was Lucy but she was also the only one who knew exactly what they were up against. She had been a precious help for the grieving Hudsons in organizing the wake and the funeral. Now she was wearing down the wool of her skirt rubbing her palms on it every few seconds. Bobby was going to try to reassure her when he saw Myles approach her and put an arm around her shoulders. The change was instantaneous and quite astonishing. She relaxed immediately in Myles' embrace and leaned her head on his shoulder. A whispered word later she was brightening the room with a sweet smile. Who would have thought that ol' Leland had it in him. Well, apart from Sue... and Jack... and Lucy... and Tara... and... No. He was pretty sure that D was as surprised as him about Leland's sensitive side. Although, the expression on their temporary supervisor's face was not one of surprise but of slight exasperation. Probably, while organizing this stint and keeping calm the Powers That Be, he was already trying to think about what to tell to said PTB about this explosion of, un-authorized, romantic relatioships between colleagues. Wonder what he would say... A bad batch of coffee? Bobby snickered at the thought then looked around hoping no one had noticed. His gaze fell on Tara and stayed riveted there. She was still donning her kevlar vest after having helped almost everyone in the room to wear theirs. That was his girl! His wonderful, beautiful, way-too-smart-for-his-sake, funny and very determined girl. His gaze returned briefly to D because the truth was that their relationship would cause most of the problems for poor D since they were both field agents. Myles and Lucy had already had a relatioship in the past and, seeing that she was a civilian, no one had said anything. Probably D could play the card that Sue wasn't exactly an agent but an analyst, and a civilian one at that, so that it wouldn't technically be against the rules if Jack and Sue were romantically involved. IF Jack would wise up. This left Tara and himself. If the big boss ordered that one of them had to be transferred he would volounteer. He couldn't bear the idea of seeing her sad because she had left behind her friends. Besides, the team couldn't survive without their tech whiz whilst explosive experts like him, while not necessary in an investigative team, abounded inside the FBI. It was the only logical choice, one he would make with the only regret to leave the team behind. He followed Tara with his eyes until she reached Sue who had spent the last hour walking up and down the hall, her eyes fixed on the last door at the end of the corridor. Jack's room. Levi had followed her for the first ten minutes, almost tripping her inadvertitedly twice, then he had given up and had placed himself at Mr. Hudson's feet, his head on the man's lap for the headrub of his lifetime. At least someone was enjoying himself.  
The click of a door opening and the continued creak of wheels on an old parquet caught the attention of all the occupants of the room, Sue's gaze being already focused in that direction.

"Let's go." Jack ordered and everyone sprang to action, clearly unanimously deciding to ignore the raspy quality of Jack's voice, the pallor of his face, the shadows under his eyes that the dark sunglasses couldn't hide completely or the slight trembling in his hands. If Bobby laid his hands on Capono... No time now. He had to be with the others not in an empty living room daydreaming about how to maim a man.

Soon he was out and in his assigned vehicle.

###

He watched as the group exited the heavily surveilled house to reach the waiting cars. Hudson's latest move, after weeks of hiding like the coward he was, had surprised him. Now he understood that the man wasn't taking any chances. There were a lot of agents and it seemed that all the civilians were wearing a kevlar vest. Aaaaaand... there he was, pushed by his overgrown guard dog. Man, but Jackie-boy didn't look so good. Maybe... maybe he could save a bullet and let the coward live the miserable life that awaited him. It would be the perfect punisment for having ruined his life. The prospect, admittedly exhilarating, of seeing Hudson being abandoned by the FBI and then by his dear little friends because of his condition made the act of ending his life with a bullet to the head an act of pity instead of justice. And Hudson deserved no pity. Anyway, he would decide after the burial. If there was one good thing his father had thought him was that the dead deserved respect, in spite of who they were related to.

"So, off to a funeral we go" Capono whispered then turned around and stepped over the two inhabitants of the house he had borrowed for the last hours, still both struggling against their bonds and probably cursing him behind thier gags. "Don't strain yourselves too much. You'll pop a shoulder or something. Someone wil find you. Sooner or later."

And he was out of the house.

###

He couldn't believe it! Hudson was nothing more than a coward, an arrogant idiot... he ... he was just a cripple and still... still he was surrounded by people going to a lot of trouble for him, trying to help and please him every way they could! Even his sweet Susie. Well, he had to admit that now that they were both somewhat defective they had at least one thing in common. Pity. He had given her a chance to know a true man. Now she would grieve a shadow of one. For a moment he had thought to kill Sue to give Jack Hudson a lesson. Hudson's death could wait if, in the meantime, he could make him suffer. He still had a soft spot for his Susie, though, regardless of how poor her taste in men was. Moreover, having spent the funeral observing Hudson's protection detail, he wasn't so sure he would have another chance to hit and kill that rat. And hiring someone else to do it led only to failure and trouble, as he had learned from recent experiences that still had him wishing he had killed that worm of Johnston that day. No, he had to aim directly for Hudson and end this story once and for all. Hudson didn't deserve to live a moment longer. Besides, Jack's surprise was already in place...

* * *

_A/N: Yes, I'm evil..._


	47. Chapter 47

_A/N: Thank you for your reviews, people. I see that Capono had quite the effect... Let's go see what he has planned for poor Jack..._

* * *

He had had a couple of days to study the layout of the town and the streets Hudson would take and he had formulated a plan. Now everything was ready and all he had to do was wait for Hudson's car to fall on his lap. Quite literally... Considering that he was against trained agents, that he had only one chance before they caught him or kill him and that Hudson was always surrounded by people, he had only one viable option: to isolate Hudson. In order to do this he had to hit when the man was less protected and that was in the car where there were only two people with him. This meant that he had to force the car off the road in a place where he could easily escape from. The day before he had found the perfect place and had placed the explosives that would bring Hudson's car practically right in front of his hiding place. And if the coward died in the explosion... well, more time for him to leave the scene undisturbed.

He waited as patiently as he could, all the while cursing the harsh Winsconsin weather, and at last his patience was rewarded. The convoy arrived, the cars in a different order than when they had reached the funeral. It was for the best, though. Hudson's car was the last one. Too easy. Anyway, he waited for the right moment and then pushed the first button. The road under the penultimate car exploded.

"Ooops! Too soon." Capono whispered while pushing the second button.

The last car was thrown in the air in some sort of arc that brought it to land on its side only to right itself a moment later and start a fast uncontrolled run, rear first, along the steep slope at the bottom of which Capono waited. The boot of the car crashed against a tree, effectively stopping the vehicle, and Capono started running toward it. He approached it quietly and cautiously but his movements were quick. He had a couple of minutes, probably less, before someone on the road above realized what had happened. He peeked inside the car. Leland and Gans were both injured and unconscious but were still breathing. Good for them. He yanked open the back door and found himself face to face with a bloodied and conscious, albeit a little disoriented, Jack Hudson. He couldn't have hoped for more. His satisfied smile would be the last thing this worm would see. The idea itself compensated all the frustrations due to the failed hits of the past months. This was justice. He found himself grabbing the man's shirt and pulling him out of the car. It was the right thing to do. Hudson was a worm and he would die crawling on the dirt. He didn't meet any resistance from the clearly shocked man and he felt a little shocked himself when he saw the agent fall off the car face first, his legs dropping heavily with a thump on the ground a moment later. Capono swallowed back the feeling and aimed his gun at Hudson's forehead, his hand steady as it was his breathing.

"This ends here." He proclaimed and pulled the trigger.

###

Bobby kept shooting what he hoped were surreptitious glances in the rearview mirror to keep an eye on Jack's car. That stubborn man was sure that Capono would attack during the trip back from the funeral and had insisted that his car had to be the last of the convoy. "Remember we want to hunt Capono out. This way there' ll be less people at risk" he had explained. "You'll be an easier target." Bobby had replied but in the end they had done what Jack wanted. Bobby, though, had manouvred so that his car was the one immediately before Jack's. He gave a quick look to his precious cargo. They were sombre, obviously, but okay.

Suddenly he felt the car pitch forward and the deafening roar of an explosion reached his ears.

"Hang on!" He shouted over the desperate yells of the other occupants of the vehicle, praying that the car didn't end up upside down.

A moment later a second explosion propelled the car toward the steep slope right off the road. When he felt the car touch the ground, thankfully upright, he tried to take control of it. He managed to avoid a couple of trees and to just clip a third one before finally stopping the vehicle.

"Everyone ok?" He asked after a moment of shocked silence.

Everyone started talking at the same time and the fact that he could hear all their voices and no one seemed suffering made him sigh with relief. The breath stayed stuck in his throat, though, when he heard Sue's panicked voice.

"Jack!" She cried and everyone in the car fell silent and looked at him with terrified expressions on their faces.

"Sue and Lucy. You both stay here with Jack's family. Tara and I will go check on Jack and the others. Ok? We'll be back in a jiffy." He said then signed "**Keep them calm**" to Sue with a pointed look toward Jack's father and sister.

A moment later he was out of the car and running as fast as his legs could carry him toward a column of black smoke coming from behind a natural bend of the terrain. He was reassured by Tara's footsteps pounding behind him and thanked God that Jack's family, both biological and not, was safe. Now, if He could keep an eye on the other three members of _his_ family until they could arrive...

The moment he turned around the bend he saw a scene that freezed the blood in his veins. Capono was rougly pulling Jack out of the wrecked car, gun in hand, and no movement came from the front seats. Bobby stooped but kept running, his eyes trained on Capono's gun. When he saw the man raise his arm he put aside his own well being and charged toward the man, his own gun trained on the rogue agent. Even if it was against procedure he didn't give any warning to Capono. He just aimed and shot before the man could kill his friend. Tony's shot went wild as the man whirled around while a red stain blossomed on his sweather. Capono aimed his gun toward the new threat but another shot hit him in the leg making him collapse on himself with a pained cry. Bobby glanced back and saw Tara nod briefly. As if he needed any reassurance that she had his back... When the Australian reached Capono the man was writhing on the ground but still trying to reach his gun that, evidently, had flied when Tara had downed him. With a sloppy kick Bobby threw the gun out of Capono's reach then he kneeled at Jack's side to reassure himself that the shot had really gone wild. Jack was bloodied but there weren't new holes in him and Bobby could breath again. Pained grunts reached his ears from the front seats and it was the sweetest sound he had ever heard.

"We win, fick!" Bobby exhulted then punched Capono in the face and knocked him out.

"How are they?" He asked Tara who was checking on their friends.

"A little worse for wear but they're alive. Don't you ever, EVER, EVER AGAIN give me such a scare. Do you understand?" She berated the injured men but the relieved smile on her face pulled the sting out of her words.

When he heard the twin "Sorry" coming from inside the car Bobby let out a relieved laugh that sounded a little like a sob when his gaze settled back on his best friend.

"Hey. Are you ok?" He asked, trying to gain Jack's attention that all this time had been riveted to Capono. When no answer came he put a gentle hand under Jack's chin, afraid to hurt him, and turned his face slowly toward himself. "Are you ok?" He repeated studying his friend better. Jack was propping himself up on an elbow, probably both to keep an eye on Capono and to keep himself in a slightly less vulnerable position then lying down, while the other arm was clearly cradling his ribs. And if the light didn't trick him his pupils were a little irregulars. So, at least, a concussion and some bruised ribs.

Jack blinked and this time nodded even if a wince betrayed his reassurance. After a moment his eyes widened and he looked franctically around, the little color he had on his face disappearing completely. Fear or dizziness Bobby couldn't be sure but he did notice Jack grimacing while massaging his right thigh absently.

"The others! My family!" He cried, his desperate gaze searching the truth in Bobby's eyes.

"They're all fine. A little bruised maybe and a lot scared but they're all fine. The worst off are you and the boys." Bobby answered while Tara mimicked a phone call and mouthed Lucy's name. He nodded his approval. By now they had to be besides themselves with worry. The wail of the sirens of the emergency vehicles kept getting louder and after another quick check of Jack's conditions, Bobby took the time to handcuff Capono and, after having woken him up to read him his rights, he knocked him out again.

"What? He was resisting arrest!" Bobby justified with a nonchalant shrug at Tara's raised eyebrow. "He's lucky he didnt' do any more damage..." The Australian mumbled.

"Just, try not to grin too much when you'll have to report how you stopped him." Jack admonished with a wan smile while Tara applied some makeshift bandages to Capono's wounds.

"Jack! You owe me a new dress!" Myles claimed from inside the car. "This is hopelessly ruined. It was an Armani. Or was it a Versace? It doesn't matter. It was Italian and it was expensive. Very expensive. One of your salaries expensive."

"Jack, man." D called. "Next time try to annoy someone a little less theatrical. I don't think my old bones appreciated Capono's latest trick."

"Shut up! Both of you!" Jack orderd but he was smiling. Sort of. "My head is trobbing ad I'm starting to think that Capono could be better company than you." He taunted but his gaze was still unfocused, his tone half-hearted and he was still grimacing while rubbing vigorously his leg.

"That was harsh, Hudson, and absolutely gratuitous." Myles accused.

"Now, now, are you sure you didn't knock your head somewhere?" D said at the same time.

"As a matter of fact..." Jack mumbled.

Bobby was debating whether to join the banter or make Jack notice the continued movement of his right hand when he saw Jack shift to find a better position and suddenly tense then fall back on his side with a cry, face scrunched up in pain. He was almost on top of Jack when he started moaning.


	48. Chapter 48

_A/N: Thank you for your replies. Let's go see how are the boys, shall we?_

* * *

The moment the doctor entered the waiting room the six people in it sprang to their feet like their seats were on fire. All of them appeared worried and tired and two of them sported a couple of bruises, clearly superficial but already quite spectacular.

"How are they?" A tall man, the tallest in the room, asked with an accent that the doctor couldn't quite place.

"Agent Gans has a broken arm and many bruises, some of them fairly deep. Agent Leland has some deep bruising. Both of them have some lacerations and suffered a very mild concussion. I'll keep them under observation for tonight, just for precaution. They'll be sore and uncomfortable for a couple of weeks but they'll recover completely."

The physician waited a moment for the relief to sink in then he invited the group to take a seat and dragged a chair so that he faced them all.

"How's my son?" The oldest man asked in a trembling voice. The young woman beside him put a comforting arm around his hunched shoulders and took one of his hands in one of hers. They were clearly father and daughter and the striking resemblance of the young woman with one of his patients left no doubt to the doctor who the worried man was referring to.

"He's stable. He, too, has a mild concussion, some deep bruising and some lacerations. He has also two cracked ribs and a sprained wrist. Our main concern is obviously the strong pain he's feeling in his back and in his leg. His doctor in Washington sent me his case history and I think I know what is the reason for this pain. Confronting his past x-rays and the ones we took here I saw what I think is a fragment of bullet or bone, I don't know at this point, that had stayed lodged in his spine, indiscernible till now. This fragment shifted and is now compressing some nerves. If so, it could be possible to remove the fragment surgically. I'm waiting for the neurosurgeon to confirm or refuse my opinion."

"So, this is good news." The short-haired blond woman commented but her tone was questioning, as if she was waiting for the other shoe to drop. Unfortunately…

"This is good news and bad news. Or rather, this could be good news. It depends on if I'm right on my diagnosis and if this changes anything. I want to be honest with you. It could be possible that agent Hudson won't recover the use of his legs even if he undergoes a successful operation. The fragment could have made more damage shifting or some nerves could already be atrophied. At this point we just don't know. What we know is that he'll have to stay bed-ridden for at least another three weeks after the surgery and this will put him back to square one regarding his physiotherapy and his psychological welfare. This incident, whatever the outcome of the surgery will be, is a major setback in his recovery."

"It gives us hope, though." The long-haired blond woman said.

"Is there hope he'll make a full recovery?" The tall man asked him.

"If I'm right about the fragment, if the surgery goes well and if there's no more damage then before the incident… then yes. There's hope he'll make a full, albeit slow, recovery."

"That's an awful lot of ifs!" The tall man commented dejectedly.

"That's more than what we had this morning." The long-haired blond replied with a small warm smile.

"That it is." The man conceded, smiling back.

The tension, the weariness and the concern were still there but they were now mitigated by the hope and the doctor found himself wondering how people who did the job they did could still have such an optimistic view of the life. Every woman hit by her husband, every kid beaten by his or her parents, every cop stabbed while on duty… Every patient that had ended up in his ER almost dead because of another human being had cost him a little of his faith in the mankind and in God. Maybe their secret was that they were clearly a close-knitted group, presenting a united front to a world hell-bent on destroying their own humanity. If what one of his nurses had told him was true then they had already been through a lot and, he knew, a lot more awaited them, whether he was right or wrong on his diagnosis. Life wasn't fair. Or maybe…

"About agent Capono…"

"He's not an agent anymore." The tall man interrupted him with a dark expression.

"He has not been one for quite some time." The dark-skinned woman commented in a steely tone.

"He's just a …"

"Bobby!" The short-haired woman interrupted what would have surely been a colourful description of the man, her voice exasperated but not angry. "I'm sure the doctor got the gist of it. Now, doctor, what were you saying about our ex-colleague? I promise you won't be interrupted again." At this she shot a glare toward the young man who, for his part, appeared absolutely unruffled.

"As I was saying, Mr. Capono" This time the man stayed silent but gave him a brief appreciative nod. "Lost two teeth in what I understand was quite an animated altercation…"

And here the short-haired blond shot another glare toward the tall man that, this time, shrugged a little sheepishly but with an unapologetic expression on his face. The doctor decided to continue his report.

"He is undergoing surgery in this moment to repair the damage caused by the two bullets. Preliminary exams and news form the operating theatre tell us that, barred any complications, he'll recover from the bullet in his shoulder in three/four weeks while the bullet in his leg made a lot more damage and he won't ever recover the full use of the leg."

"Are you saying that he won't walk again?" The long-haired blond woman asked, her expression unreadable but her eyes filled with sadness.

"No. He'll walk again but after a long physiotherapy and anyway with the aid of a cane. We think he'll recover the 40/50 % of mobility in the leg."

He studied the group and noticed that no one seemed too concerned by the news. In fact he could breath the air of vindication that was blowing in the room. Petty sentiments? Maybe, but he found himself sharing them.

"Can we see them?" The youngest of the group asked.

"Yes. Not for long, though. They need to rest and they could be a little ill-disposed since I've given them only a mild painkiller keeping into account their concussions. One of the reasons why I'm keeping all three of them overnight." He started leading the way.

"Does this mean that Leland will be even crankier than usual?" The tall man asked in mock horror.

The dark-skinned woman pinched him, hard, in his side as reward to the dig.

"Ow! What was that for, Sheila!" He protested, rubbing the injured part.

"Behave!" She admonished with a glare.

For a moment the doctor was sure that the man would have woofed in the middle of the waiting room. There was a mischievous glint in his eyes. Instead….

"Ma'am. Yes, Ma'am." The man replied stopping for a moment to perform a mock salute.

The doctor found himself smiling along with the rest of the group. Yeah. There was hope.


	49. Chapter 49

_A/N: Thank you for your replies. Don't you love Karma? ;)_ _Since we're nearing the end of this story and since should concentrate on my studies (I have 2 exams in november) from now on I'll post every day. I hope that's okay with you._

* * *

The doctor had been right on all fronts. Their friends had been clearly sore and quite cranky, even if Myles had been somewhat mollified by Lucy's attentions, and Jack had not taken well the news that had brought so much hope to the rest of them. After the first minutes of concerned attention towards his sister and Lucy, the only ones sporting visible bruises, he had been despondent and tight-lipped. Bobby had found himself getting more and more annoyed with him with every passing moment, with every heavy sigh coming from his friends, and in the last minutes he had been wondering whether it would be better to stay after the others had left so as to try and make Jack see reason or to go with the rest of the team and avoid a confrontation. The object of his musings took the choice for him.

"Can you stay for a minute, Bobby?" Jack asked when the down-hearted group was starting to move out of the room.

Bobby didn't say a word but stayed where he was, rehearsing his argument in his head.

"Thank you, Crash… I knew you would keep them safe." Jack told him.

_That_ took the wind right out of his sails. For only a moment. Until he saw a grimace on his friend's face and his hand sneaking out under the covers to massage a limb that, until not even a day before, was just a dead weight.

"Stop being a jerk." The Australian said abruptly.

Jack's head snapped up so quickly that it was a miracle it had stayed on his neck. As it was, it was probably reminding him that moving it carelessly with a concussion was not exactly a good idea, if the green complexion on his friend's pained face was any indication. Bobby decided to take advantage of the situation, stashing the guilt for doing so in the back corner of his mind, ready to squelch it if his words did the trick.

"This morning you had little to no hope to get back on your feet and resume your job as it was. Now, look at your hand. It is trying to massage away a pain you couldn't feel a couple of hours ago! Finally there's hope and you are too wrapped up in your self-pity to see this hope. And why? Just because you have to stay in bed a couple of weeks more? Do you realize what your behaviour is doing to those who love you? You are obviously the most affected by your injuries, no arguments there, but you're not the only one."

His tirade finished, for the moment, Bobby had just the time to notice that Jack's face was even paler than before, if a little less green, before his best friend threw him out of the room.

So… that had gone well…

###

Jack kept his gaze trained on the door long after Bobby had closed it none too gently behind him. He was furious… and still slightly nauseous, albeit the nausea had been quickly receding the more his anger grew. At least Bobby had been useful for something. Then again, he wouldn't be nauseous in the first place if not because of Bobby's sudden and unjustified outburst. So, back to being furious at Bobby. How dared he say those things? He had no right and he was surely in no position to criticize Jack. He. Could. Walk! He had never ceased to do it! He had not suffered the humiliations and the frustrations Jack had been forced to go through. He had walked back to his job a couple of days after the shootout, a headache and a sling the only consequences of that night for him. How could he even begin to understand?

He had accused him of ignoring other people's feelings. And, exactly, why should he care? They wanted him to be all cheery and smiley so that they could feel better, so that they could go back to their lives without having to feel guilty because he could not. Bobby in particular… oh, but he was a real piece of work! It was his fault in the first place if Jack was in these conditions! If he had moved and ducked like even a rookie would have done they could have both walked away unscathed from that operation and they could have probably even caught Capono right that night and prevented all that had happened from that day on. They would have gone back to their job; he could still try to have a relationship with Sue; his sister would not have been hurt… He would have been with his mother… All this would have been possible if only that Australian had done his job! So, once again, why should he care what Bobby was feeling right now?

Self-pity, he had said. Manning had no idea what he was talking about. He talked of "hope" when Jack was back to square one, with no privacy whatsoever, about to re-learn the basics to be independent again with the added bonus of feeling pain where he couldn't feel it anymore. And for what? For some remote hope that maybe he could walk again? He couldn't do it again. He couldn't hope again to get his life back only to see that it was little more than a wish. He had finally found his balance. He had found a way not to make of his paralysis such a big deal. He had decided to became a lawyer. In a court it didn't matter if you were on your feet or if you stayed sat behind a desk. He could re-invent his life far from his old one, far from the people who knew him, where no one knew who and what Jack Hudson was before.

Had anyone of his friends thought about what this "hope" was doing to him? He was sure that the thought had not even crossed their minds. And _he_ should worry about _their_ feelings? He would have snickered if he hadn't been sure that his head would not have appreciated the reverberations. If they didn't want to deal with him or to have their feelings hurt then they'd better stay away from him. If only they could leave him alone everyone would be better off.


	50. Chapter 50

_A/N: Thank you for your replies. Little bodily fluids warning._

* * *

When Jack woke up was to a fuzzy and muffled world. Once he managed to clear enough his vision to finally see the off-white ceiling of his hospital room he turned slightly his head right and then left. No one was there. The pang of sorrow he felt at the revelation he was alone was quickly followed and promptly replaced by a familiar sensation of nausea. He closed his eyes tight and searched for the emergency button; when he found it he pushed it with all his might, mentally willing the nurse to, **please**, hurry. When, a moment later, he heard a noise in his room he opened his eyes to see Bobby get out of the bathroom.

"Hey, mate! You're awake!" The Australian cheered then sobered immediately upon seeing the unhealthy pallor on the other's man face.

Jack saw him hurry toward him to hand him a pink basin and a feeling of gratitude warmed him. For just a moment. Then a way more urgent feeling overcame him and he emptied his stomach in the proffered plastic recipient.

"It's good to see you too, mate." Bobby quipped, handing Jack a paper tissue to clean up a little. Jack glared but accepted the scrap of paper.

"I hate anaesthesia." Jack lamented in a hoarse voice, handing the basin back to a slightly green Australian who accepted it with a disgusted noise, and a matching expression, while passing Jack a plastic cup with a straw. "My thoughts exactly." Jack muttered before taking a sip of water to rinse his mouth.

In that moment a nurse entered the room and Bobby passed the basin to the nurse with a relieved expression then went back to the bathroom.

"Wuss." The nurse commented after a moment.

Jack snorted and regretted it immediately when he choked on the water he was sipping. When the coughing subsided Jack could see a smirk on the nurse's face.

"Let me guess. I'm a wuss, too, uh?" He whispered.

The nurse shrugged, smirk still in place, and helped him get settled in the bed.

"I'm giving you an antiemetic." She explained while inserting a clear liquid in his IV with a syringe. "The doctor will be here in a moment." She added just before Bobby left the bathroom.

Jack chuckled when the nurse winked at him before picking the basin up and exiting the room.

"What was that about?" The Australian asked.

"You ... made quite the impression..." He answered in a neutral tone.

Jack was about to burst out laughing at Bobby's waggling eyebrows when the doctor entered the room. After the traditional tests and questions the doctor took a chair and sat down beside Jack's bed.

"First of all, the operation went well. We were able to extract two foreign bodies, one pressing on the sciatic nerve and the other putting pressure on your spine. We took a little longer than usual but we made sure that nothing like this could happen again. The nerve has not been damaged further..."

"Is it for this reason that I can't feel that pain anymore?" Jack asked, and he wasn't sure he had succeded in keeping the desperation out of his voice.

"It certainly is one of the reasons but not the main one. Firstly, you're still under strong painkillers that, without any direct stress on your nerves, are finally doing their job. Secondly, to be thorough we had to.. dig a bit so the nerve and your spine have gone under a considerale trauma. There's some serious swelling around your spine and it will be a couple of weeks at least before we'll be able to notice any change. Finally, as we informed you before the surgery, there's still, unfortunately, the concrete possibility that you will still be paraplegic. I don't think so, though. If anything, this whole mess let us know that you can still have feeling in your legs, which means that the spine has not been severed. That said, we still don't know for sure but I want you to keep in mind that there's still hope. We're back in the game."

Jack nodded faintly when it was clear that the doctor was waiting for some kind of acknowledgment of his words before leaving.

"He's a good bloke." Bobby commented when the door closed behind the physician.

Jack just nodded distractedly, his eyes fixed on the opposite wall.

"You ok?" The Australian asked in a worried voice. "Are you in pain?"

Jack raised his gaze to Bobby's face because, well, he was feeling fine. Apart from the paralysis and the nausea, obviously. Why that question? Then he followed the Australian's gaze down to his lap. And to his hand rhythmically rubbing his thigh. He stopped abruptly the involuntary massage.

"Could you leave me alone?" Jack asked, his eyes riveted to his lap. When no sound came from his friend, he added. "Please." Yeah, he was begging. And he didn't care one bit.

After a couple of tense, silent minutes he was alone, at last. Alone and without any feeling whatsoever in a leg he had resumed massaging without any conscious thought. When he realized what he was doing he closed his hand in a clenched fist and, after a moment, hit his leg with it, time and time again until he could feel the side of his hand tingling.

Funny how just the evening before he was cursing a pain he was now almost craving. He wanted the pain back! He **needed **the pain back. Now. He didn't have the strength to repeat the last months. He simply didn't. He needed something more concrete than hope. He needed feeling, sensation, movement ... pain. He needed a reason to fight because right now he didn't have any.

###

He had just finished his breakfast when Amy entered his room with a smile on her face but an aura of weariness surrounding her.

"How are you feeling?" She asked.

It was always the same question every time she visited and every time for the last two days he had snapped at her because, really, this wasn't something you asked to a person paralysed, twice, bed-ridden and forced to eat semi-liquid meals (every single one of them) because his body didn't work as it should anymore. This time, though, he bit back the angry retort because his sister didn't look so well herself. He did know how not to be a jerk, whatever Bobby's opinion on the matter.

"As usual." He replied neutrally with a little shrug. "And you? You look tired."

She averted her eyes and shrugged, mirroring his own gesture. It was a little freaky how much they were alike in these little things.

"I didn't sleep well tonight." She answered at last, sitting on the chair beside his bed. Several minutes of uncomfortable silence followed, Jack studying Amy and the girl trying to avoid his scrutiny. "I spoke with your doctor and he told me that you'll be released in a couple of weeks. He told me that you will still have to stay in bed for a week after you're out of here and that during that week you'll start physiotherapy. Dad and I thought that for that first week it would be a good idea to use the bed where mom slept in the…" She cleared her throat. "In the last months. It is fully accessorized, like the one you're in now. It will be easier to care for you there. If you don't want us to help you, we can contact the nurse who helped us care for mom. She's a good woman and a terrific nurse. After that week you'll be more independent and we thought that maybe you'd appreciate to sleep in your bed in your old room. We still have mom's wheelchair so you won't have to use the hospital-issued one. Unless you already have one… We could ask Bobby to somehow let us have it…" She stopped rambling, probably noticing the intent look on her brother's face.

"Where is dad?" He asked.

"He's home. He's not feeling too well. Nothing serious, though, really…"

"Amy?" Jack pressed.

"He's not doing so well, Jackie. It's just… A lot happened in the last week and…" She stopped when her bottom lip started trembling and her voice started wavering. She closed her eyes and wiped a stray tear with an open hand then roamed the room with her gaze until her lip stopped quivering.

She didn't need to continue, though. Jack understood. It was all too soon. They had just buried mother and wife when they had found themselves at the hospital, again worrying and fretting over a dear one, again facing the necessity to care 24/7 for that person, not even having time to put away mom's medical things. It was mom's illness all over again and without even the time to properly grieve for her. No wonder that his father didn't want to see him and his sister looked so world-weary. He couldn't put them through all this again. They had the right to piece back together their lives and they couldn't do it if they had to care for him constantly. Maybe in a couple of months, when he was fully independent again and after they had some time to put his mom's illness behind them; not to forget it, for he didn't think it was possible, just so that it didn't hurt so much anymore. Maybe three months would be better… His musings were interrupted by a soft touch on his hand.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you worry. I don't know what I was thinking…"

"You were thinking that you could tell anything to me without having to apologize for it. And you were right. You were wrong, though, to worry like you did. I'm not staying here. I'm going back to DC once I get released. I prefer doing physiotherapy with Manny since he already knows me and doesn't seem perturbed by my bad moods. I don't have the patience to break in a new physiotherapist. And to be totally honest with you, I'm longing for my bed and my apartment. No offence, little sis." He tried to put as much conviction as he could in his words.

Maybe he had succeeded or maybe these were the words that her sister had hoped to hear all along, the fact remained that he saw her sister's body relax in the chair and a little of the weight lift off her shoulders. The satisfaction at having helped his sister warred with the disappointment caused by the total lack of resistance from her. Well, he should have imagined it. He guessed.

###

After Amy's visit came the humiliating but necessary moment of the sponge-bath. It wasn't one of his favourite procedures even on a good day but this time topped all others because the nurses discovered the damage he had inflicted on himself in his fit of rage. And it was another unsettling out-of-body experience with the doctor poking and prodding the mottled bruises on his leg and Jack tempted to hiss and groan just because he should have been hissing and groaning, maybe even whimpering.

No surprises then when he roared against Bobby who had come just minutes later with a way too cheery disposition. The Australian had stormed out of his room soon after having entered it. Scaring the team away was becoming easier every time. The reasons could be many. They were getting smarter; he was getting angrier, meaner and more effective; they were getting tired of having to put up with him. Who knew? And who cared?

A knock on the door and Sue entered, a pained expression on her face.

"The AD ordered us to go back to DC now that the case is closed and you're no longer in danger. He has already assigned us a new case."

No small talk, straight to the point. So it was the third possibility.

"Our plane takes off in two hours. I'll call you tonight. Bobby is coming with us but I'm sure he'll be back here to be with you if you want to go back to DC for the rest of your recovery. Garrett told me that if it is possible he will give one of us a couple of days, so…"

He stayed silent and still, big accomplishment there, during her speech but when he found himself enveloped in her warm embrace he couldn't bring himself not to hug her in return and bury his head in her soft hair. This he could feel. It ended way too soon leaving her hastily wiping her eyes and him feeling cold.

"I'll pray for you, Jack. And… I'll wait for you…"

That said, she gave him a quick peck on the lips, that left him craving for more, and exited the room.

He was alone.


	51. Chapter 51

_A/N: Thank you for your reviews. The end of Jack's suffering will come. Eventually... Hang tight. We have the last 10 chapters (this one included)._

* * *

The first week had passed slowly, with only his sister's visits to break the monotony of his days spent watching a too small TV, reading books he couldn't remember the moment he closed them and being poked, prodded and generally cared for by doctors and nurses. The end of the first week had been marked by Allie's visit. He had seen her at his mother's funeral but she had made herself scarce, probably trying to work up the courage to confront him. She had not even called when he was first injured but had been kept in the loop by her mother who had called almost daily his mom. A couple of weeks before he would have probably thought that he didn't blame her but lately… he had not been feeling so forgiving. They had spent the better part of their lives together, for heaven's sake! She should have been with him, beside him since the beginning of his nightmare, not being… well, anywhere else and only asking about him like he was one of her father's poker buddies, like he was no one. She should have stuck around… like Sue, like Bobby, like his whole team. Even Garrett had visited him twice at the hospital in DC and had been calling him once a week since the shootout. So, when she had sat beside his bed, awkward smile on her face and pity in her eyes, he had given her the cold shower and when she had started to get annoyed at his behaviour he had chased her off, for good. She had not called or visited since. Maybe he should have felt guilty but he hadn't. On the contrary, he had felt a deep satisfaction at seeing her cheeks flush with anger then pale with incredulity when he had told her in no uncertain terms what he thought of her behaviour and what she could do with her pity. Yeah, deep satisfaction. That had been the highlight of his stay in the Wisconsin hospital. Since then he had found out a new, very efficient way of passing the time: sleeping. He slept through his family's visits, through some sponge baths, through two visits of the resident psychologist. At the third one the man woke him up to talk to Jack about PTSD, depression, anti-depressants, therapy… same old same old. Jack let him talk, trying to will himself to sleep in spite of the man's nasal voice until the psychologist suggested to speak to his friends and family. That forced him to open his eyes to glare at the man and to speak to him in a voice hoarse for lack of use. The effort had not been in vain. He was sure that the psychologist had left his room with the clear idea in mind that contacting his friends and family about his supposed depression would have been a bad idea. The psychologist returned two more times but he ignored him both times, feigning sleep until the real things came. There, there was nothing. No pity, no pain, no hope. And he was good with that.

###

No one of the team had been able to go to Wisconsin to pick him up so Jack had flown on the wheelchair, accompanied by a nurse.

Bobby was waiting at the airport with a big smile on his face. Dear ol' Bobby. He was like a faithful dog. You could rage against him, you could hit him but he would always return, wagging his tail, waiting for more, good or bad.

"Ehi, Sparky!" The Australian greeted him enthusiastically with a hearty pat on the back. "How are you, mate? You sure look better. The others are at the office. They'd like to see you. If you feel up to it we could stop at the Bureau for a minute before going to your apartment."

"And being exposed to the pitying stares of the whole building? No, thanks. I want to go home. Now." Jack was startled by his own words. Not long ago he wouldn't have spoken to Bobby this way, he wouldn't have told those things out loud. It was like these last few months had removed the filter between his brain and his mouth. And he didn't care one bit.

"There would be no pit…" The Australian protested.

"Save it." Jack interrupted him. "We both know I'm right. I just want to go home and sleep. I'm tired."

Bobby was clearly upset but nodded in acquiescence. Good, faithful Bobby.

###

Home sweet home. Jack entered in his apartment and noted that everything was as he had left it but that someone had cleaned up the place. He felt already more relaxed, knowing that from now on he didn't have to pretend with anyone that everything was just peachy. He let his gaze wander. "Or maybe not…"

"What are your things doing in my living room?" Jack hollered toward his bedroom where Bobby had gone to put Jack's luggage.

"What do you mean?" The Australian asked back, returning to the living room, a puzzled expression on his face. "Your doctor said that you needed someone with you in the beginning, until you'll get better. So, I'll stay here. I thought you'd…"

"Whatever. I'm going to bed." Jack wheeled away to his room but was forced to call for Bobby to get in bed. Great.


	52. Chapter 52

_A/N: Thank you for your reviews! I appreciate every and each one of them even if I don't always answer to every one._

* * *

Something had awakened him but Jack couldn't say exactly what. Nightmare? It couldn't be because while he had been having a bad dream it had not yet reached its apex, that is the moment he saw his friends dying in a puddle of their own blood; he wasn't even trembling or gasping…The ring of the phone, dulled by the closed door, reached his ears. Mystery solved. Someone was calling Bobby on the phone. Jack let himself relax on the bed and closed his eyes, ready to go back to sleep the moment that obnoxious noise stopped. After three more rings it stopped. Jack took a deep breath and released it in an annoyed rush when the phone resumed to ring.

"Where the heck is Bobby!" Jack asked to the dark room after five more rings.

A sense of uneasiness started to envelope him, making him squirm on the bed. The phone stopped ringing and Jack held his breath to try and hear the mumbled words of the Australian. Nothing. A moment later his own cell went off in the other room, startling him. Why had he left it there? Still no movement on the other side of his door.

Images of his nightmares flashed before his eyes. Bobby in a puddle of blood, dying, with a man pointing his still fuming gun at his chest. Jack shook his head, trying to get rid of that image. Capono had been arrested, he wasn't a threat anymore. Jack was safe, his friends were safe. There were still a lot of other people, though, who had a bone to pick with Jack and could have chosen this moment, when he was at his most vulnerable, to attack, to kill Bobby so that no one could stay between them and their target. Or the Australian could have just fallen and hit his head, bleeding slowly, unable to call for help. Both his and Bobby's phones were now ringing. With a frustrated grunt Jack pushed away the blankets covering him and started the slow, tiresome process of getting himself on the edge of the bed to grab the wheelchair and sit on it. The wheelchair was too far, though, and he couldn't even touch it with the tips of his fingers. Jack cursed his condition and his inability to help his friend. Just like in the nightmares… That thought spurred him on and with a push he let himself fall down the bed, one of his arms drawn to his head to protect it from the unforgiving floor. He hard the thud and felt the jar throughout his body, at least where he could feel something. He winced but didn't let himself rest, his only thought that of helping Bobby. He started crawling towards the wheelchair. The distance to cover was very small but to Jack it felt like it stretched more and more with every passing second, worry and fatigue warring inside him, pushing him forward while urging him to rest. When he reached the wheelchair he put the brakes on and somehow pushed himself on it with quivering muscles. Once on the chair he positioned his feet on the footrests, wiped the sweat from his face and took a big, deep breath to brace himself for whatever he would find on the other side of the door. He couldn't hear the phones ringing anymore but he was pretty sure that it was because the sounds of his laboured breaths and of his hammering heart where drowning everything else. He took the revolver from his usual place, the drawer of his bedside table, and put it on his lap, then he wheeled himself toward the door. He was manoeuvring himself to reach for the door handle when the door clicked open and light from his living room started inching its way in the semi-darkness of his room. He bit back a gasp and grabbed the gun with a sweat-slicked and slightly trembling hand. He raised his arm and clicked off the safety. He pulled the cock back letting the tell-tale sound do the talking while he took a deep breath. The door stopped inching open.

"Stay back or I'll shoot you." Jack ordered, glad that at least his voice sounded firm, that he sounded in control.

A moment of silence followed.

"Sparky? It's me, mate. Don't shoot." The familiar voice of the Australian pleaded in a surprised, hesitant tone. "Can I come in?"

Jack cursed again but released the cock and put the safety back on. The Australian took the silence for permission to enter and opened completely the door, switching the light on at the same time. When Jack managed to blink away the shock to his retinas he fixed his glare on Bobby. The fear he had felt and the following relief were suddenly replaced by humiliation. He couldn't believe he had panicked over a ringing phone and he couldn't accept that Bobby was witnessing this lack of control. An all-consuming rage kicked out all other feelings and he directed it straight to the man before him, ultimately the one responsible for this latest humiliation.

"Your phone rang for the last ten minutes!" Jack barked. "Where the heck were you?" He asked in angry snarl.

He saw Bobby glance down at himself, at his bare wet torso and towel-clad waist, then at the floor where a little clear puddle was rapidly growing. At last the Australian's gaze rested on his best friend with an exasperated expression.

"What do you think? I was playing golf!" The tall man snapped.

"Why didn't you answer your phone?" Jack pressed.

"I. Was. Taking. A. Shower!" Bobby yelled. "I didn't hear the phone." He added a little more calmly.

"You shouldn't have done it." Jack accused.

"What? Take a shower?" The Australian asked in a slightly strident voice, disbelief clear on his face. "What has gotten into you, mate?" He queried, bewildered.

"You didn't hear the phone which means you couldn't hear me if something happened to me! And if something had happened to you? I was sleeping, for pity's sake! You could have slipped and hit your head and I'd have been none the wiser until too late! How could you be so irresponsible?"

"Is that why you have your gun? Because you were worried for me?" The Australian asked, his tone softer now.

"I was worried for me! If you didn't notice I'm pretty much useless! It took me almost ten minutes to get from the bed to the door!" Jack raged.

"How did you get on the wheelchair?" Bobby asked. Jack suspected that the Australian had placed it there because he hadn't wanted Jack to try and do things on his own, not yet at least.

"I crawled." Jack growled. "Now, get out of here."

"Ok. I'll go dress and then…"

"Then you'll go out of this house. And do not come back."

"Sparky… What are you saying?" If Bobby had tried to keep the hurt from his voice he had failed.

"I'm saying that I don't want you here in this house a minute longer. I'm better off by myself." Jack tried to manoeuvre the wheelchair around the tall man but a big hand on his shoulder prevented him to so much as move an inch.

"You don't mean it." Bobby said. His voice lacked conviction, though.

Jack shrugged off the heavy hand with an angry gesture and fixed the Australian with a cold glare.

"I do mean it. And I do mean every single word I'm going to say. I don't want to see you anymore. I can't stand to watch you going on with your life anymore. I'm in this chair because of you and you keep coming here, mocking me with your presence, with your health, with your wholeness. I won't stand it anymore. You go for your merry way, go live your life somewhere else, somewhere as far away from me as it is possible while still living in this world. You owe me at least this. "

With an abrupt push Jack exited the room, forcing himself to ignore the image of the shattered expression on his best friend's face, his damp eyes, his own stinging eyes.

Jack didn't hear a sound coming from his bedroom for at least a couple of minutes. Then, less than ten minutes later Bobby was out of Jack's house. He didn't return.

* * *

_A/N2: At least I gave you a half-naked, wet Australian…_


	53. Chapter 53

_A/N: Thank you for your kind replies. They brighten my days, especially today that I feel quite miserable thanks to the flu._

_

* * *

_

A knock on her door startled her from her thoughts. She had the TV on but for the life of her couldn't tell what had been on for the last hour. Her mind was totally absorbed by images of a tall Australian whose dimpled smile made her weak at the knees every single time. Like only some hours before when he had left the office to go pick Jack up at the airport, his face full of joy because his best friend was finally returning to the fold. She got up from the couch with a smile on her own face. Man, but she had it bad! Looking thorugh the peephole she recognized immediately the bent head and opened the door with an even wider smile. Until she saw his face.

"What happened?" She asked, grabbing one of his hands and leading him inside her apartment.

"He kicked me out." He replied in a bewildered voice. Then, after quickly roaming the room with his eyes, he threw a kick to his carryall, "He kicked me out!" He snarled.

She had not expected this outburst and let out a gasp of surprise that froze the tall man.

"I'm sorry. I didn't… I don't…" He was stammering and his face was a mask of guilt.

She shushed him with a finger on his lips, ignoring her shock at seeing so many different emotions play out on his handsome face in such a short span of time. She led him to her couch and sat down, hoping he would follow her example. He did and she very deliberately took his face between her hands and kissed him slowly on the lips until she felt him melting in the kiss.

"Now," She said, licking her lips "Tell me what happened."

"I was taking a shower." He began.

"That explains the still damp hair." She commented, ruffling them lightly.

He took her errant hand and kissed it on the knuckles then he caged it between his bigger hands, a soft, sad smile on his face. Right at that moment, breathless as she was, she had half an intention to go slap some sense into Jack. How could he hurt Bobby this way? She smiled back instead and invited him silently to continue. She **had** to understand why the kindest man she'd ever met was suffering at the hand of his best friend.

"So… I was taking a shower and my phone must have started ringing, I guess. I don't know because I couldn't hear it under the water and in another room. I had just shut off the water when I heard a sound from what I thought was Jack's room. I put the towel around my waist and I went checking, thinking that Jack had woken up and that maybe he needed help. Oh, he had woken up alright. When I started opening the door I heard the sound of the cock of a revolver being pulled back. I told Jack that it was just me and entered. I thought I saw relief in his eyes but then he started yelling at me because I hadn't answered the phone and the next thing I know he's telling me he wants me out of his house and of his sight forever."

He lowered his eyes at the end. Tara suspected that he did it both to hide his emotions – and at this Tara had to mentally snort because his whole frame was pouring misery, the eyes would have just been overkill – and to hide something else, something she thought was the true reason for Bobby's pain.

She leaned towards him and cupping his face with her free hand she kissed him on the forehead, then on the tip of his nose and finally she gave him a quick peck on the lips.

"Now, tell me the rest." She ordered softly, stroking his cheek with a thumb. He sighed.

"He told me it was my fault he was on the wheelchair and that the least I could do was to disappear from his sight." His voice was hoarse, the emotion clear in it.

Tara sighed. Jack had made a mess. He had hit exactly where he knew it would have hurt the most. This was the downside of friendship: your friends knew exactly how to comfort you but also how to give you the most lethal wounds.

"And you believed him." She commented, resigned.

"He didn't left any doubt about meaning what he said." He replied sullenly.

"I know he hurt you, Bobby, and you have every right to be angry but, please, do not take his words at heart. We both know he didn't mean them, regardless of what he assured you. He's scared and hurt. I guess he feels overwhelmed. I know I would feel this way if I were in his shoes. You're the closest person he has and the easiest target for his frustration. Give it a couple of days, let him settle back in his life. Let him have his space. He's been with someone, friend, family or medical personnel, since the shoot-out, weeks ago. You'd go stir crazy too in his place. In two-three days call him, let him know that you're still there if he needs you. You'll be there, right?" She asked, seeing the doubt in his eyes. "Please, don't give up on him. You'll regret it for the rest of your life." She pleaded.

She saw he was thinking on her words, probably asking himself what Jack would do if the roles were reversed. And she saw the moment he took his decision.

"Ok. I'll give him a couple of days then I'll chew him out but good!" He announced with a small smile at his last words.

"You do that." She agreed, smiling back. Now, on to the last shadow lurking in his eyes. "You know he was wrong, don't you?" She asked.

"About?"

"About it being your fault." She clarified patiently, even if she was pretty sure he had understood what she was talking about the first time around. Still, the doubt lingered, she could see it clearly. She was sorely tempted to slap some sense into him, too! Man, but they could be frustrating! Two peas in a pond, that's what they were.

"If it had been me at your place, would you have thought it was my fault?" She asked, already knowing his answer.

"I know what you're doing." He commented.

"Then you know you'd better answer me truthfully." She retorted.

He stayed silent for so long that she was starting to think he would never answer.

"No."

"Then why should it be **your** fault?" She argued. "Do you think you're a better agent than me?"

"What? No! Why are you saying this?"

"Because clearly you think that **you** should have done more whereas **I ****couldn't** have done anything more. I can't think of another reason fo this difference apart form you being better than me." She concluded, leving him speechless and maybe a little confused. What an adorable expression! "You couldn't have done anything different." She said, encasing his face between her hands and dipping her head to catch his eyes. "Believe me. I've reviewed the tapes of that night over and over again. You couldn't see the weapons. Neither could we. The only one who could see them before they started firing was Jack and he acted accordingly. He did exactly what you would have done had the roles been reversed. It's. Not. Your. Fault." She let her words sink in for a few moments then smiled. "Now that's settled, **once and for all**, I'd like to spend the evening more pleasantly…" She waggled her eyebrows suggestively, bringing a smile to the handsome face before her eyes, then leaned forward and gave him a kiss on the lips. The moment she felt his arms starting to close around her she slipped form his loose grasp and got up.

"Hey!" He protested, finding himself hugging air. "I thought you said you wanted to do something better."

"And I do. I was talking about eating." She replied with a mischievious smile. She turned her back to his crestfallen expression. "Oh, and I'll choose the movie!" She giggled at Bobby's loud groan. She didn't feel a bit guilty. She had deserved a good meal and a good chick flick – and here she had to giggle again imagining Bobby's reaction to her choice - and some serious cuddling. She was pretty sure he wouldn't mind so much in the end.

###

The next day, Bobby's presence at the office was soon noticed, they were FBI after all, and questioned.

"Jack needed a couple of days by himself." The Australian replied, daring Myles with a pointed glare to question him further. The Bostonian kept quiet. Again, FBI agent and all…

All eyes turned to him, though, when Sue entered the bullpen and announced that Jack had left her a message on her blackberry the evening before stating that he was going home for some time, that they didn't have to worry and that they shouldn't try to contact him.

"We had a fight." He explained finally when he couldn't stand the stares anymore. "Or rather **he **started yelling at me. I still am not clear on the reason for his fit. He never told me he wanted to go back home, though." He tried to talk in a neutral tone but judging from the sympathetic expressions on his friends' faces he doubted he had been successful.

"Probably it's for the best. Maybe staying with his family is exactly what he needs right now." Lucy commented but it was clear she was fighting her own emotions.

Maybe she was feeling betrayed, like Bobby was. Maybe they were all feeling betrayed. It was probably an unjustified feeling but Jack had not even given them the chance to help him and now was cutting them out of his life. Maybe they were all feeling guilty like he was because perhaps they could have done something more to help Jack, to make him stay, to make him feel better. Maybe they were all feeling as helpless as he was feeling. The truth was, though, that Bobby didn't care because knowing they were all on the same boat wasn't making him feel any better. _A burden shared is a burden halved_ was just a stupid, nonsense saying. He felt as miserable as if he were alone in the room and in the situation. And he was tired of feeling miserable.

Spotting Jack's beloved model car he grabbed it and threw it against the nearest wall. It shattered, littering the floor with small and not so small fragments of plastic and metal, and Bobby stormed out of the bullpen leaving behind a group as bewildered by his action as himself. No one followed him. They probably were feeling like staying alone themselves.

Several hours later he found himself in front of Jack's house, his eyes fixed on the closed shutters. He was pretty sure that he wouldn't be the only FBI agent observing those windows that evening.


	54. Chapter 54

_A/N: Thank you for your kind reviews.** WARNING** this story is rated M because of some sensitive and dark themes it deals with. I'll put a **STRONG M rating WARNING** before every chapter deserving it... well.._

_**STRONG M rating WARNING**_

* * *

Jack reluctantly opened heavy eyes to a dark room. Was it day? Night? What had awaken him? Oh, right. He had to go to the bathroom. With a heavy sigh he pushed the covers away, turned on the light on his bedside table and sat up. It was getting more and more difficult to get in the wheelchair or out of it. His arms were getting weaker, so much so that he found himself trembling all over for the effort of leaving the bed and sitting on the wheelchair. He glanced down at his legs, just a moment because he couldn't bear their sight for more than a second. It was enough to let him see that they were thinner than before, though. He already knew they were getting colder because, despite his efforts, he couldn't avoid to touch them if he wanted to move even if, Heaven knew, he had tried. He had tried until the only solution available to him had been to reduce his activities until he had started spending his days and nights in bed, getting up only to eat and to go to the bathroom. This had to stop. And since he couldn't stop going to the bathroom, he wasn't **that** far gone, he had to find another solution. He needed time to think it through properly. The trip to the bathroom helped him focus and when he returned to his bedroom he knew what he had to do. He grabbed pillow and blanket from the bed and put them on his lap. Then he went to the kitchen to fix himself a sandwich. It was more out of habit than because he was truly hungry. His appetite had gone along with his strength, it seemed. That was probably for the best, though. Maybe, if he didn't have to order anymore groceries and have them home-delivered his nosy neighbours would believe he had left the apartment and would leave him alone. Not that he had answered their, way too insistent, queries through the door, trying to keep up the pretence of being out of town but he was getting tired of the noise of their knocking, of their frustrated mutters and, worst of all, of their politely concerned whispers when they didn't get any answer. To his teammates a text message and some closed windows had been enough to give up on him. They had clearly caught on the fact that he was not worth the effort. He just wished it didn't hurt so much. He had to admit, though, that it was getting better with time. He just needed not to dwell too much on how life was going on outside of his dark, gloomy apartment. In the beginning, almost two weeks before, he had kept boredom at bay by watching TV, with headphones on so no noise could be heard from outside his apartment, and reading. These activities, though, didn't distract his mind from his situation: he was an FBI agent, soon to be former FBI agent, sitting on a wheelchair in a sealed apartment, paralysed, alone and without any hope for the future. Or for the present, for that matter. So, he had returned to his favourite activity when he was at the hospital in Wisconsin: sleeping. The first time he had fallen asleep in the middle of the day, at his awakening he had feared that he would have had trouble falling asleep in the evening. He didn't have to worry. Not only he didn't have any problems that night, he found out that the more he slept the more, once awake, he felt the pull of sleep. He felt tired all the time. A good tired, though. A tired that didn't let him spend his days worrying, despairing and wondering about his situation. The only downside of this sleeping-all-day affair were the nightmares. They were still as vivid, frequent and nausea-inducing as the first time he had had them. The dream about the death of his friends before his helpless alter-ego alternated with dreams of his mother who, in the middle of some of his most precious memories of her, looked him right in the eyes and cursed him for his absence during her illness, for his weakness after the shoot-out, for his incapacity to keep his friends close, to get up from the darned wheelchair like a human-shaped Humpty Dumpty, to pay for his own medical bills and on and on. His mother went out of her way to point out **all** his failures. The rational part of his brain reasoned that his mother would have never told him such things but a moment later that same rational part reminded him that mothers rarely told their children what they truly thought of them. Unless they were dead and living only in nightmarish dreams. He preferred this kind of nightmares to the ones about Bobby and Sue's death. For one thing they were way less gruesome; for another, this way he could still see his mother's face every day, albeit distorted by contempt and hatred as it was. Moreover, he knew that the nightmare about his friends was false, they hadn't been killed by Tony or himself. His mother's accusations, on the contrary, rang quite true. And he had always preferred the truth to the lie. If he was honest with himself, though, there was another reason for his preference for not-violent nightmarish images. Although it pained him, or it used to pain him anyway, the ease with which his "friends" had dismissed him, he didn't want any harm to befall them and those bloody images reminded him too easily that in their line of work they could still very well end up like that. And that thought wasn't worth entertaining even for a moment.

A way too long horn blast shook Jack from his thoughts and he looked around with eyes suddenly too heavy to keep open. He still didn't know if it was day or night, he had lost count days ago. He supposed he could find out easily enough by turning the TV on but the truth was that he didn't really care. He wanted to sleep and knowing it was light or dark outside of his personal twilight zone would't change it. He tried to set the pillow in the wheelchair but soon discovered that it was a lost cause, the back of the chair being too low to sustain, or help sustain, his head. So he tossed the pillow on the armchair, right over the remains of his sandwich, and adjusted the blanket around him so that he didn't chill too much, considering that lately he could never feel really warm, and closed his eyes. He soon found himself in a familiar parking lot. Oh, well…


	55. Chapter 55

_A/N: Thank you for your replies. Let's go see how the team is doing... No warnings here but tomorrow... well... you'll see. The last five chapters (apart from this), ladies (and gentlemen?)! This story is coming to its ending! AT LONG LAST!

* * *

_

Sue watched Levi hopping happily in the park, his sole focus his beloved tennis ball resting a few feet from him in the grass. Usually this image brought a smile to her face but not today. Today she was sad and worried. Well, sadder and more worried than normal or what had passed for normal in the last months. Today it was three weeks since Jack's message. He had not contacted her or anyone else since then. After the first week, during which they had been very patient and let Jack have his space, they had tried to call him on his cellphone. "They" because, unbeknown to each other, they all had tried to call him during the day and "tried" because no one had been successful in the task. And since at his parents' house the signal had always be strong the only explanation was that he was keeping it intentionally turned off.

So they had given him another week, trying to ignore the mounting tension within the group, the snapped communications, the short-tempered outbursts. It was like the proverbial elephant in the room, only instead of a pachyderm it was a cluttered desk, minus a model-car and a team leader. The most short-tempered and loudest of the whole team had been, and still was, Bobby. No surprises there. He clearly felt guilty for whatever had happened between himself and Jack. The only person able to make him see reason in the worst moments was Tara. Sometimes they reminded Sue of "Beauty and the Beast" and she found herself slightly jealous of what they had. This whole affair of Jack being shot had brought this one good thing: both Bobby and Tara's and Myles and Lucy's relationships were blooming. Sue couldn't bring herself to be truly happy for them, though, not until the greatest part of her heart was worried about Jack. And this saddened greatly because they deserved this happiness.

The third week had passed without conscious thought, caught in a whirlwind of investigations, tailings and tape recordings tied to a sudden case that had risked to explode, quite literally, in their hands and that had left Myles with a dislocated shoulder and Bobby with a splinted wrist. It had been strange, wrong somehow, without Jack there, impatiently inquiring over his men's health.

Today they, all of them, together, would call Jack at his parents' house. He had had three weeks to cool off and think his situation through. Considering how he had left them Sue supposed he owed them at least an explanation of his intentions. Levi returned with the ball in his mouth but let it fall at Sue's feet and put his head on her lap, probably sensing his owner's distress, trying to reassure her as best as he could do. Or maybe **he** was seeking reassurance. The energetic dog had not been the same since Jack's injury, maybe reacting to the rampant emotions running in the bullpen, probably just plainly missing his friend. No one had been the same since the shoot-out. Sue found herself raising her gaze to the trees surrounding her and then higher to the blue sky, looking in the perfection of Nature for the presence of God. She had prayed more than usual in the last months, asking God to save Jack and Bobby, to give Jack strength, to watch over Jack's mother and the rest of his family, to give back his legs to Jack, to give them all the strength and the courage to face what was ahead of them. Now she found herself asking God to give them Jack back. It wasn't important if he had the use of his legs or not, even if she was sure Jack wouldn't exactly agree; what was important was that Jack entered back in their lives because he was too much a part of them now to leave them without catastrophic consequences. And the team was already slowly but surely self-destructing. Maybe she was being selfish but she couldn't help herself. This team, this group of friends had been her family for the last four years and she had to defend her family, Jack had thought her this. Gosh, she missed him so much! She missed his quiet strength, his never affected kindness, his open laugh, his flirtatious smile, his steady leadership, his unassuming presence, his enviable inner equilibrium, his willingness to accept her as she was and to learn her language and even his often misshaped signs. It didn't matter that he wasn't willing or ready to have a romantic relatioship with her, what did matter was that he returned to the fold. Nevermind that a pang of envy, so very similar to a physical blow to her chest, hit her the moment her gaze left the sky going to rest, unknowingly, on a couple on a romantic stroll. Why was it that when you wanted something you couldn't have suddenly the whole city, except for you, had it and felt the need to shove it right in your face? Like when you're on a diet and crave ice-cream and just in getting from your apartment to your car you witness the whole city passing in front of you with ice-cream in hand and delighted expressions on their faces. It just wasn't fair. She sighed and got up, attaching the leash to Levi's collar. She had been such a romantic idealist until a few weeks ago! Now she was becoming bitter and envious. She circled the bench and found herself a few feet away from a couple busy in amorous, albeit innocent, activities. She shook her head and strode towards the Hoover Building. It was time to call Jack.

###

"He said he didn't want us to contact him." Bobby argued for the umpteenth time. The problem was, as for the precedent times, that he didn't know, or more probably couldn't accept, the reason behind his objections. He did want to talk to Jack. Or did he?

"Since when do you listen to something Jack tells you?" Lucy challenged him.

"Why don't you tell us what is the real problem here?" Tara invited.

"There's no problem…" His protest trailed off at the narrowed gaze of the blond tech.

"My esteemed colleague, I suggest you to desist in your attempt at denying. If they want something they get it. It's just a matter of time and suffering. Yours." Myles intervened, a wry smile on his lips.

"That's exactly right." Lucy agreed, patting the Bostonian's shoulder benevolently.

"It's just… I mean…" Bobby stammered.

"What if he chooses to stay in Wisconsin, never to return?" Sue asked, quietly.

"What if he doesn't want us to help him, to stay beside him?" Tara added.

"What if we'll never be able to bring Jack, the real Jack, back?" Lucy queried.

"What if he doesn't want to have anyhing to do with us anymore?" Myles' voice joined the others.

Bobby opened his mouth but no sound came out so he closed it then repeated the action a couple of times more, feeling pretty stupid but unable to help himself. He knew the others were as worried and frutstrated as him, he wasn't that self-centered, but hearing the fears that had been crowding his head in the last weeks voiced by other people… well, it was a little unsettling. He cleared his throat. Twice.

"Well, what are we wating for? Let's go call Sparky!" He announced, his confidence boosted by the knowledge that if the worst came to the worst he wouldn't bear the repercussions alone. Probably it was a selfish thought but it was also a comforting one and right now he needed that comfort more than anything.

It was decided that Sue would call from her computer so that she could follow the phone talk without having to rely on someone else.

"Hello? This is Sue Thomas" Sue said once the call connected.

"Hi, Sue! This is Amy. How are you?"

"I'm fine, thanks. How are you and your father?" Sue asked, wanting to proceed with caution regarding Jack.

"We're good. Well, we're getting there. It's not esy. Dad is not quite the same yet but he's managing. We both are. So, how are the guys?"

"They're fine and they're here, listening to the conversation." Bobby piped up, almost folded in two to reach the microphone on Sue's desk.

"Oh. Hi, guys! Any news on my big brother?"

Sue's eyebrows shot up in surprise and alarm and one look at her friends' faces confirmed her that everyone else was sharing her confusion.

"Uh, guys? Everything okay? You're worrying me here."

"It's just… We were going to ask you the same thing." Sue confessed.

"What? Are you telling me he didn't give you the clinic's name, either?"

"No, he didn't." Sue edged, applying Jack's lessons about interrogating someone: never to tip your hand off, try to gleam information first. She decided to ignore for the moment the guilt at doing so with Jack's sister.

"I can't believe my brother! One would think that at his age and with the job he does he would be more responsible! He calls, tells us that he's going to a clinic specialized in spinal injuries but forgets the name of the clinic. Then he assures us that he will keep in touch with us or with you but he doesn't call in three weeks! Not a single phone call, not even a message! And his cell-phone is constantly turned off. Well, he had told me that at the clinic it probably wouldn't have signal…" The tirade was followed by a long moment of silence. "So, you didn't hear from him?"

"No, we didn't." Bobby intervened. "But I'm sure he's alright. He probably has not even the time to scratch his nose at the clinic. I hear they can be real slave driver in these places." He hastened to reassure… Amy? Himself?

"He should have called." Amy protested.

"Yes, he should have and we'll make sure he'll regret not having done so." Bobby agreed.

"It's just… I didn't worry too much about him because I knew you'd keep an eye on him and would let me know if something was wrong… I wanted to call you to have some news but everyday life has a way to let you forget even yourself, sometimes. You blink and you find yourself three weeks later… Oh, I've been so selfish! It's just that I felt so relieved he was seeking the help he needed! I didn't have to worry about him too on top of everything else… I'm an awful person and an even worse sister…" Amy lamented. No one could hear the tears in the young woman's voice but they didn't need to. It was easy to imagine how upset Amy was because they were just as upset, her words echoing their own sentiments.

"Don't worry no more, little Sheila. Leave your brother to us." Bobby said.

"He probably just wanted to surprise all of us with his progress." Amy defended.

"Probably." Bobby conceded. "We'll call you soon." He promised.

"Ok. Take care guys."

"Will do. Bye."

A full minute of complete silence followed the disconnection of the phone call.

"What the heck was he thinking?" Bobby exploded.

"We'll ask him when we find him." Sue's voice was determined even if her eyes showed the feelings of betrayal and worry she shared with her friends.

"You're right, Sue." Bobby agreed, his tone just as determined, His eyes, though, had a hard glint that promised dire repercussions for their team leader. "He took us for a ride and I want to know why."

"Luckily for us, we're FBI agents. It will be a piece of cake." Myles commented.

###

Several hours later the whole team, minus D who was at a budget meeting, was still in the bullpen, frustration radiating from them and keeping everyone not belonging to the team as far away from them as humanly possible.

"Tara?" Bobby asked for the umpteenth time so that she knew exactly what he wanted.

"Still nothing." She answered after having drawn Sue's attention. "He doesn't result admitted in any clinic specialized in spinal injuries in the USA. His credit cards have not been used since the shoot-out. The same goes for his bank account."

"So what? Has he vanished in thin air?" Lucy asked to no one in particular.

"So it would seem." Tara commented. "I'm contacting the hospitals renowned for their treatments of spinal injuries…"

"I don't think you'll find him there." Myles commented. At Tara's questioning gaze he explained. "His financial situation has not changed since the shoot-out. He's almost broke so he can't afford specialized treatments in private clinics or renowned hospitals. The Financial Department assured me that his Insurance Cover has been completely restored but there's no movement on that front either."

"I can look into those structures accepting patients for free to try experimental procedures…" Tara proposed.

"You do that." Bobby ordered. "I have an idea." That said he got up, put on his coat and hurried out of the door just to be stopped on the threshold by Sue's voice.

"Bobby, wait! I'm coming with you." She said, wearing her own coat. Then, looking straight into his eyes, she added softly. "I think we had the same idea."

"I'll call as soon as we check this out." Bobby promised. "If I'm right I'll kill him with my bare hands." He growled.

"And I'll keep him still for you." Sue added, startling the remaining agents.

Then they were both gone, Levi trotting beside them.


	56. Chapter 56

_A/N: Thank you for your replies. **STRONG M-rating WARNING **for dark themes and dramatic actions. This is where things get as bad as they can get. I promise it will get better from now on. Well... it can't get any worse I suppose..._

* * *

A knock on the door startled him, almost making him do what he had hesitated to do for the last couple of hours. He sweared softly but otherwise ignored the nuisance. Probably another one of his neighbours trying to trick him into revealing his presence. Well, fat chance. He didn't want to see anyone, let alone talk to them. He wanted to be alone, needed to, to do what he was going to do. A glance toward the door let him see the mess that was his apartment. He had spent his days in his living room in the last week and it was evident in the rubbish littering the room and the general untidiness. He probably wasn't much better. His life had gone to pieces and he had let it because he didn't have the strength to put it back together. Would have been even worth the effort? He had no job, no woman, no friends, no family. He had them all once, before his job took the rest away. He couldn't go back to work as a cripple, it just wasn't even worth considering. He couldn't condemn someone to a life with him, a burden to bear for how many years he still had left, not even someone who had offered to be beside him no matter what. He couldn't bear the thought of his friends spending their time with him, changing their life, only because they pitied him. His mother was dead and the rest of his family could live their lives perfectly well without him in it like they had done in the last years. He couln't blame his sister, well not too much. She was finding her way in the world, her life focused on her future like his had been at her age. He could, and would, blame his father who had never tried to hide the fact that he could barely tolerate his son.

So, he was left with nothing. Not even the comfort of sleep. His rest had been regularly, inevitably, disturbed by nightmares until he had stopped trying to sleep some three days ago. It wasn't worth the anguish of the abrupt awakenings. Six days before he had barely had the strength to go to the bathroom. The same day he had stopped eating. He wasn't hungry, he often ended up wearing what he had eaten after the more vivid nightmares, he had finished his supplies and had no intention to order new ones and, the decisive factor, if he didn't eat he didn't have to go the bathroom. Too much effort and it wasn't worth it. Nothing anymore was worth the effort. His own existence wasn't worth the effort. It was for this reason that he had been sitting in his wheelchair in the middle of his living room for the last two hours, his gun in his hand, his finger on the trigger. Deciding that he couldn't bear the thought of living his life like this he had gone to his room and picked the gun from his bedside table. He had then proceeded to meticulously clean the weapon because he didn't want to be maimed by a dirty gun. He wanted to put an end to his suffering, not add to it. Then he had wheeled back to the living room and put the gun under his chin. He had contemplated the idea to write a note to explain his actions but it was all pretty self-explaining in his opinion. That thought, though, had made him hesitate because with it had come the images of his friends. It was the thought of how his team-mates would react to his suicide tht still kept him wavering. He wasn't sure who would find him, whether his landlord, his sister or his friends but he was sure that somehow the people he had cared the most about would enter this room and see the gun, the blood, the gore, what was left of him. A part of him, buried deep in his heart, couldn't tolerate that thought, couldn't tolerate to hurt his friends so deeply, so horribly. It was the same part that reminded him that, yes he had friends and they would be destroyed by his death, by his decision to die.

The knocking on the door became pounding and a voice, an angry voice, a very familiar angry voice reached his ears.

"Jack, open up or I'll break down this door!" Bobby's voice bellowed. "I'm not joking. I know you're in there!"

Jack gulped. He didn't doubt one minute that Bobby was serious which meant that he had not much time, almost no time at all. Why was he here? Had his neighbours called him and shared their suspicions? Or had he realized Jack had lied to them all? It didn't matter.

"Jack! Open up, please!" Sue's voice and a sharp bark confirmed the presence of the blond duo.

Oh, Gosh! Bobby and Sue would be the ones finding him, his brain on the walls of his house. They would hear the shot and Bobby would force his way in the apartment only to be met by the image of the gory remains of his friend, smoking gun still in his hand. And then Sue would follow. He couldn't do this to them. Maybe, a couple of weeks ago he would have done it, he had been so angry at them for… well for everything. Now, though, that anger had vanished, replaced by desperation. And the desperation wasn't as strong, as all-encompassing, as blinding as the rage. Images of his own nightmares crowded his mind, making him relive the anguish he felt every time he closed his eyes to witness the death of his friends, the helplessness. He couldn't hurt his friends like that. He just couldn't.

As he lowered his gun on his lap, putting the safety on in an automatic gesture, Jack couldn't help but think that it wasn't fair that his friends had so much power over him, that on them depended if he lived or died.

A crash and a very dishevelled Bobby, followed by an equally dishevelled Sue, burst into his living room, just in time to se him shake his head, chuckling weakly, and to hear him rasp the first words he had uttered in the last three weeks.

"It just isn't fair."


	57. Chapter 57

_A/N: Thank you for your reviews. Sorry for the delay in posting. I swear I didn't want to leave you hanging but I didn't have the time to sit down in front of my computer till now (here it's 00.23, FYI). Busy weekend! Saturday I went to my grandma's to celebrate her 81st birthday and I returned only this evening. The **STRONG M-rating WARNING** remains for the adult themes this chapter deals with but I think this is a walk in the park compared to the previous chapter._

* * *

"How are the headaches?"

"On and off. Nothing major. Less frequent."

"Nightmares?"

"Still there. I haven't been sick lately, though."

"Good. How's the appetite?"

"Not much. I'm eating, though."

"Enough?"

"Yep."

"Okay. Did you go to your PT appointment?"

"Yep."

"Why, we are chatty today, aren't we?"

"Sorry." Jack shrugged. "It's just that today is not exactly a good day."

"Don't worry. It's to be expected. It's not even three weeks that you've been under anti-depressants. You have to give them time to work."

"I know. Anyway, I think they're already working."

"Why do you say this?"

"Because I feel like I have more energy than before which, in itself, it's not such a feat considering the starting point." He chuckled self-deprecatingly. "I feel like my thoughts are more clear, more in order. I feel a little less anxious…"

"These are all good signs. They mean that your body is reacting well to the treatment. It could mean a shorter pharmacological therapy than usual which, in my fifteen-year experience as psychotherapist, is always a good thing. Have you experienced any of the side-effects we talked about?"

"How should I know? It's not like sex is on the forefront of my mind right now. I have no girlfriend and, even if I had, it would be all for nothing. If you don't remember this little detail, with my kind of injury I can't… act on my desires, I am physically not able so it's not even worth talking about, is it?"

"This is a psychotherapy session, you know? All we do is talking…"

"Well, I don't want to talk about this." Jack insisted, a scowl on his face.

"Ok. You're the boss, you know it." The psychotherapist conceded. "So, have you talked with Sue since your suicide attempt?"

Jack's scowl deepened.

"It wasn't a suicide att…"

"Stop right there, tiger. We have already talked about this. The fact that you stopped on your own before the very act it's a good thing, a wonderful thing really, considering that if you had not stopped you wouldn't be here discussing embarrassing facts. It also means that your recovery and your return to a normal life will be swifter. The fact remains that you planned your own death, though. If your friends had not chosen to pay you a visit right at that moment, per your own admission you'd have pulled the trigger and redecorated your living room. So, please, do not kid ourselves. We have more important things to spend our time with, right? So, have you talked to Sue since your suicide attempt? Or to Bobby, for that matter?"

Duly chastised, Jack shook his head.

"I… I don't know what to tell them." He confessed.

"You could start with a classic like _How are you?_"

"I didn't know psychotherapists were authorized to mock their patients." Jack commented sourly.

"It just goes to show how much you don't know, special agent. Anyway, I usually don't treat my patients like this."

"I feel so special."

"As you should. You're special. A special pain in the neck." The psychotherapist smirked when one corner of Jack's mouth turned slightly upwards. "So?"

"I can't." Jack murmured.

"Why?"

"Because I can't face them, that's why!" Jack snapped. "You didn't see their faces. They were…"

"They were what?" The psychotherapist pressed after a few moments of silence.

"They were disappointed in me. There was disgust in their eyes, contempt…"

"Do you think you deserve their contempt?"

"I…" Jack's eyes flickered briefly to the other man's face then lowered back to his lap where they had stayed for most of the session. He sighed deeply. "Yes, I do." He answered truthfully, sadness in his tone.

"Are you really sure you read your friends' emotions correctly?" The psychotherapist asked.

"Uh?"

"Are you really sure that you didn't see those emotions on their faces only because they were what you expected them to feel?"

"What are you saying?"

"Now, don't go on the defensive. I want you to be honest with yourself.. and me. Remember that there's no correct answers in these matters, that the only right answer is the one that helps you understand yourself better. So, when all was said and done, did you feel contempt for yourself? Did you feel disappointed in yourself?"

The silence stretched for so long that the therapist feared he wouldn't get any answer. He was wrong.

"Yes. On both accounts." Was the soft-spoken reply.

"Why?"

"Do you really need to ask? Because I was weak. Because I was not good enough to get out of that shoot-out unscathed and to protect Bobby, to save my mother or, at the very least, to be with her throughout her illness; because I felt useless, hopeless, without my legs and my job; because I was a burden to those who cared for and about me; because I wasn't good enough to bounce back from what happened to me… Because I was taking the easy way out…"

"Do you still feel like this?"

"Sometimes."

"Ok. We'll return on these feelings next time. For the moment I'd like to know if you think it possible that you saw on your friends' faces what you expected to find there and not what was really there."

Another long pause then a deep sigh.

"Yeah, I guess it would be possible."

"Now, go back to the moment when they entered your house. Try to picture the scene as it was. Focus on their faces, keeping in mind what we just talked about." The man instructed.

Jack'e eyes widened in panic for a moment then, with a visible effort, he closed his eyes and forrowed his brow in concentration.

"Well?" The other man asked.

"Their eyes are wide open, their expressions frozen. They seem surprised… scared…"

"Anything else? I know you can read their body language. It has been part of your training, it's part of your job. Plus, they're your friends and you know them. So, what else do you see?"

"After the first moments of surprise they appear angry and… guilty…I think"

"Any contempt?" The therapist didn't wait for an answer. He already knew it. "Jack open your eyes and look at me, now." He waited for his patient to comply. "What you saw on their faces, what _was_ on their faces was a natural reaction to an extraordinary situation. Surprise, shock, fear, anger, guilt… are to be expected in the situation they found themselves in, together with feeling betrayed and hurt. They had to face the fact that a friend, an important person in their lives, was choosing death over them. Wouldn't you feel betrayed and angry yourself? Wouldn't you feel guilty, like you had not done enough to help your friend, to understand him?"

"So I hurt them anyway." Jack commented in a hoarse voice.

"Yes. This way, though, you have the chance to make it right with them."

The therapist let his last words sink in then took a deep breath.

"I'd like to do some group therapy with you three."

"What?" Jack squeaked.

"You heard me. I just explained you one of the reasons but I'll repeat it for your benefit. They went through an emotional trauma and they'll need to come to terms with it. I'd like to help them."

"I won't be the one to stop you but couldn't you do it in SEPARATE, PRIVATE, sessions?"

"I could, I guess. I want you to answer a question, though. And I want an honest answer." He waited for Jack's reluctant nod. "Why do you stopped that day?" At Jack's rolled eyes he sighed. "I know we've already talked about this, at length, but humor me. Pretty please?"

"Because they were breaking in my house." Jack answered sullenly.

"I know you can do better than that, Jack." The therapist commented.

"What do you want from me?" Jack asked wearily.

"An honest answer. I swear there's method in my madness. Now, you could have squeezed the trigger before they entered. Why did you lower the gun, instead?"

"Because I couldn't let them find me like that. I couldn't do that to them. I couldn't hurt them like that."

"So, you didn't kill yourself because of them. **For** them. Right?"

"Right."

"And don't you think that such a friendship deserves to be protected? That something more important than your own life is worth the effort necessary to keep it alive?"

Jack's eyes lowered as he nodded, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down, his jaws tightly locked.

"This is the second reason for my request of a series of group sessions. If you don't fight together there won't be anything left to fight for. Don't worry, though. We still need some quality time alone first." The man smiled kindly but turned serious at the stricken expression on his patient's face.

"What am I going to tell them?" Jack asked in a whisper.

"The truth." The therapist replied. "And no, it won't be easy."


	58. Chapter 58

_A/N1: Thank you for your kind one is a short chapter and I'm afraid that the A/N at the end is longer... but, believe me, it needed to be posted alone. The **STRONG M-rating WARNING** still stays for adult themes._

* * *

"It was like there was a black hole inside me, swallowing up my whole life one piece at a time, one feeling at a time. Everything started losing importance: fighting, recuperating, reading, talking, washing, eating, sleeping… Nothing appealed to me anymore… not even surviving. Every emotion was slowly put aside until all that remained were fear, anger and then desperation. At that point all I cared about was sleeping so that my days could pass quicker but soon my sleep started getting disturbed by nightmares so horrible I started avoiding to go to sleep altogether. Things are not very clear from that moment on."

Jack's voice was little more than a whisper, his eyes unable to meet his friends' gazes for fear of what he would find there. Bobby cleared his throat but his voice came out hoarse anyway.

"Why did you hide from us?"

Jack visibly flinched but nodded resignedly. He had expected this question and he owed them an answer. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly.

"It was easier. I told myself that I was doing it for you, to keep you from ruining your life by devoting it to truth is, though, that it was easier for me. I didn't have to meet with anyone's expectations; I didn't have to keep up a strong front to show you that everything was perfectly under control, I didn't have to pretend I wasn't scared of every single thing; I didn't have to… envy you… hate you… for what you still had and I had no more." Here he risked a quick glance to Bobby and Sue's faces and what he saw almost made him stop talking. There was so much pain in their eyes, so much guilt… And he had placed them there. He had to keep talking, though, because they deserved an explanation. The fact they were willing to hear him out made them deserving of so much more than he could give them. "I can imagine you felt betrayed but I'm sor… well, I'm _ashamed_ to admit that at that point you didn't have all that importance anymore. All it really mattered was myself and my self-pity. So, please, do not feel guilty. You couldn't have done anything different, I wouldn't have let you. You couldn't have imagined what was going through my head, and I thank God for this. You did nothing wrong. On the contrary, you've both been the best friends anyone could hope for, certainly more than I deserved. I've behaved like a jerk in more than one occasion and I've treated you horribly. You didn't deserve it. What you deserve is my apology, for what I've put you through, and my thanks because without you and the other guys I wouldn't have stayed sane as long as I did; I certainly would never have been able to go through my mother's death. And…" Here Jack cleared his throat and forced his eyes to meet those of the two people in front of him and to stay there to convey the deepness of the feelings he could not convey verbally. "Because of you I'm here today and not because you broke in just in time. I didn't squeeze the trigger because your friendship was too important to me to end it like that; because you were, and still are, more important to me than myself. I had already put the gun away when you entered."

Long minutes of silence followed Jack's confession and Jack found himself praying a God he had very recently re-discovered that he was right and that his friends had hearts way too big for their own sakes. His eyes shifted to his left and met his therapist's. The man nodded and smiled encouragingly but Jack found out it wasn't enough. Now his life, his happiness rested on his friends' hands. It was one of the scariest moments of his whole life, right there beside his mother's death and the moment he had learned of his paralysis. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. He had to have faith in them. The moment he had stopped having faith in his friends everything had gone spiralling out of control… Couldn't they hurry up, though?

"Does this mean you'll come back to the office?" Sue asked after a meaningful, albeit silent, exchange with Bobby.

"Uh… I guess… with time… It depends on the doc here." He answered, perplexed, with a nod toward the therapist.

"Then I guess I owe you a model car." Bobby replied, a tentative dimpled smile on his face.

"Uh...What?"

"You see…"

The therapist chuckled at Jack's expression of relief while the tall Australian leaned forward, arms on his knees to explain his previous words, and the woman leaned back with a tremulous smile on her face, her gaze locked on Jack's face as if drinking in his every expression.

"Now, this is interesting…" The therapist whispered raising a speculative eyebrow.

* * *

_A/N2: I'm not a psychotherapist and I've never been on the receiving end of the cares of one of them so there won't be the details of Jack's healing process. I wanted to bring you with Jack down his black hole and let you see with him the light above getting brighter in the end but I'll leave it to your imagination (or your experience) how he'll arrive there. I just wanted to show you the instruments he would use to reach that light: the love of good friends (earthly manifestation of the love of Someone a little higher above) and professional help (because the mind is a complicated, though fascinating, thing that needs a lot of care if it breaks). I'm not paraplegic and never have been (thank God) and so I apologize for any inaccuracy ot superficiality in dealing with this condition. My personal experience has not been so extreme or traumatic (it was more a slowly wearing affair) and I didn't have PTSD to deal with in addition to the depression and the paralysis... As I said before, I put Jack through the wringer to destabilize this character who, in the show, was way too well-balanced, had way too many solid anchors in his life to fall into depression: a good job he loves and is good at, good friends, an affectionate mother, an handsome body (as we so well know...)... I hope I didn't wear you down! This loooong note doesn't mean that the story ends here. I'll post the last two chapters tomorrow and the day after. I just wanted to explain to you why the end could seem a little... abrupt considering how much time I devoted to the developing of the rest of the story..._


	59. Chapter 59

_A/N: Thank you for your kind words. They make me blush. Now, let's start with the happy ending..._

* * *

**4 MONTHS LATER**

"Everyone listen up, please! Levi, get Sue."

He waited until he had everyone's attention then pointed to the whiteboard beside him.

"Our suspects, recently christened The Beagle Boys, should hit another bank this afternoon. We've managed to narrow down the list of the possible targets to three but it's not enough. We need only one bank to keep our eyes on. I don't have to tell you how deadly these guys are."

His audience listened in tense silence, the body count left behind by their suspects appalling. They were ruthless and, unfortunately for those trying to catch them, well organized and absolutely calm and collected throughout their robberies. It had been impossible till that moment to outguess them and those who had tried to stop them had ended up in the coroner's office. Now it was his team who had to stop the gang and they **would** remain safe and sound **and** catch the bad guys. He couldn't accept anything less.

"This" He resumed, pointing to a map "Should be their next target, if our calculations are correct. We'll send a couple of teams to each of the other likely targets while we'll concentrate our resources on this. I want two SWAT teams ready inside the garage of the building next to the bank. You guys will be inside the bank, in civilian clothes and bulletproof vests. Myles, you'll be stationed here. Tara, you'll be here. D, here and Bobby, you'll be there. You'll have another team as support inside the bank, also in civilian clothes. And they'll be stationed there, there, there and there." He instructed while pointing at different points on the blueprint of the bank beside the whiteboard. "**If **we time it right and **if** they stick to their MO we should be able to catch them red-handed and, for once, unprepared. You'll keep in costant radio-contact with the office."

He spent the next hour going over the details of the operation and of the role of each one of his agents in particular. Nothing would be left to chance. He couldn't afford it. As his team scattered throughout the room, readying themselves for the operation, he watched them in silence. Only when Bobby was on the threshold he spoke up.

"Guys? Be careful." He recommended.

"Sure thing, Sparky." The tall Australian replied with a dimpled smile and a wink. Jack smiled back, not because he felt really reassured but because that smile represented a fellowship he had feared to have lost forever, a familiarity that had not been easy to get back.

Alone with Sue and Lucy, Jack tried to quell the pang of envy towards his team-mates going into action. He was way more successful in this task than in trying to quell his fear for them. He admitted that part of that fear was for himself. He was still too frail to overcome a serious injury or, God-forbid, the loss of one of his friends. His therapist's words, not his. His own words had been more along the lines of "I won't survive if something, anything, happens to one of them"… That was the main reason of his, still, daily sessions with his therapist. The doc, though, was optimistic and kept repeating that wonderful things could happen if mind and soul were in the right place. Whatever that meant. He, too, was optimistic… in his good days. Luckily, this was one of them.

Since the operation was still a couple of hours away and there was nothing more he could do apart from worrying himself sick, he decided to return to his desk and catch up on some paperwork he had neglected in order to study the gang of criminals they were going to apprehend. Oh, the joys of desk duty!

Turning his wheelchair around he found his gaze trapped in Sue's warm one. There was understanding there, of the sistuation, of his fears, of his frustrations. He was unable to stray his gaze from her face. And he didn't care one bit.

"They'll be okay. You did a wonderful job in setting this operation up." She spoke with such certainty that he found himself believing her words.

When she smiled at him he felt an irresistible need to be nearer her. He did not resist. Once beside her desk, his gaze still locked on hers, he ignored his wildly thumping heart and took a deep breath. Today was a good day and he could do this.

"Sue?" He called unnecessarily since he already had her attention.

"Yes?"

"Would you…" He cleared hi throat. "Would you like to go out with me tonight? For dinner? On a date?" He waited with bathed breath for her answer, aware of the fact that he had treated her very badly in tha past and that she had every right to send him his own way.

"I'd like it very much." She answered, a wide smile illuminating her face.

He felt so giddy with relief that he decided to ignore the little triumphant squeal coming from the rotor's desk. Or not.

"Lucy? Please, call Randy Pitts and tell him we need more paper toilet in the bathroom of this floor. Or better yet, tell him personally, please. You know he'll want some paper signed for this. Thank you."

This time he decided to really ignore the unladylike grunt coming from the dark-skinned woman.

###

The bust had gone well with only some shots fired. One of these had caught Tara in the arm. Nothing serious, just a flesh wound, and a minor one at that, but it was enough to put Bobby in mama-bear-with-cub attitude. How could she suffer his well-meaning smothering was anyone's guess and Jack had absolutely no intention of loosing sleep over this. Now, if he _had_ to lose sleep then he largely preferred doing it by thinking about the dinner with Sue. It had gone wonderfully. It had not been that different from all the dinners they had had in the past, before the shoot-out. That, in itself, was the most Jack could have asked for. There had been something different, though. There had been a tension, a charged atmosphere throughout the evening that had had nothing to do with unpleasantness or awkwardness and everything to do with promises of things to come. Sweet things. Wonderful things. Jack fell asleep with a small smile on his lips.

###

It was the middle of the night when he awoke panting, his eyes wide open in the darkness, his body taut with tension. He grabbed clumsily the phone from his bedside table and hit the speed dial. A sleepy voice answered at the fourth ring.

"This better be good." Was growled in the phone.

"Crash?" He breathed.

"Sparky? What's wrong?" Came the worried reply.

"My leg… It hurts." Jack answered, his breaths coming in short bursts of air.

"You leg?" the Australian repeated, now wide awake.

"Yes." Jack hissed then started chuckling. Soon he could hear a matching tentative laugh from the other side of the line.

"That's great, mate!" Bobby exclaimed with enthusiasm after a couple of minutes, his voice sounding a little off to Jack.

"Yeah. But Crash?"

"Yeah?" _Was that a sniff?_

"It really hurts."

"Oh, sure! Right. Sorry. I'm coming over to bring you to the hospital. Hang on."

"Ok. Hurry up, though." Jack urged between gritted teeth.

"Sure thing, mate. I'll be there in a jiffy."


	60. Chapter 60

_A/N: Thank you for your kind replies. OK. This is it. The last chapter. I know I didn't give you enough fuzzies to compensate the angst but... I gave you **THE HAPPY ENDING**, don't you agree? Before leaving you to read this chapter I wanted to thank you all for your kindness and your enthusiasm. They kept me going through some difficult days._

* * *

**7 MONTHS LATER**

The little church was full of chatting people, dressed in their most elegant clothes. The church itself was at its utmost splendor, the white and yellow flowers carefully placed along the nave and near the altar giving the edifice a luminosity it had probably never known before. The bride had discovered it while on a romantic getaway with her fiancée and had fallen in love with it. The groom was in front of the altar, his body taut as a violin cord but his eyes full of a vibrant energy that brought a wide smile to whoever glaced that way. He scanned the guests to see who was there and who wasn't, mainly because that way he could keep his mind occupied and not charge in the sacristy to take his future wife in his arms and throw her across his shoulders so that they could Get. A. Move. On! He was kind of looking forward to the honeymoon… Everyone was there. D and Donna, Myles and his lovely fiancée Lucy, his best man... everyone except for the bride. The best man placed himself in front of the groom and fumbled with his bow tie.

"Remember to breath from time to time."

When the groom exhaled abruptly the best man couldn't help but chuckle.

"Calm down before you pass out. She's coming. Soon it will be over and you'll be able to spend some quality time with your wife very far from your nosy team-mates."

"Where are we going again?" The groom asked, battling away the still fumbling hand.

"Nice try. That's for me to know and for you to find out. You don't have to worry about anything. Everything's ready and the driver knows what to do. You just have to worry about having fun and enjoying my gift. I want a postcard, though."

"You'll have it." The other man promised with a big smile and a wink. "You didn't have to do it. You know that, don't you?"

"Yes, I know. I wanted to, though, and thanks to that friend of Myles, the stockbroker, now I can afford it without a second thought."

Just then the buzz of the guests ceased and the notes of the wedding march filled the church. The best man returned to his place beside the groom and locked eyes with the blond bridesmaid preceding the bride. They smiled to each other.

"She's breathtaking." The groom whispered reverently.

"That she is." The best man whispered back even if he suspected they were talking about two different women. At least, he hoped so.

###

The ceremony was going smoothly and was finally drawing to a close. The guests were receiving communion and the brand new husband looked towards his best man.

"Are you ok, mate?" He whispered upon seeing the sweat on his best friend's forehead and his pinched expression.

"Sure." The man whispered back, visibly forcing himself to lean less heavily on his cane.

"If you need to rest…"

"I'll sit down at the restaurant and I promise I won't move again any time soon. Don't worry, Crash. I'm fine. Right now I'm perfectly fine." Jack reassured with a smile.

Bobby nodded to his friend , accepting his words. He knew first-hand how stubborn Jack could be but it was thanks to that same stubbornness that Jack was now on his own two feet. Plus one. Anyway, he appeared happy if not _perfectly fine_ as he said. Maybe he really didn't have to worry… Nonetheless, he silently urged the priest to hurry up and this time it had nothing to do with the honeymoon.

**10 MONTHS LATER**

Jack took the Kevlar vest off with a sigh. He was bone tired. Because of this latest case he had barely seen his home during the last week, his days and nights almost completely absorbed by the investigations. Now the case was closed with no casualties, his favourite kind of case, and he was ready to go home. More than ready. His back had been bothering him some all day, punishing him for the mistreatment of the last days. He took a quick shower at the Bureau then, parting ways with the rest of the team, he got up on his car and headed home. Once parked the car he entered the house. Inhaling deeply he felt himself immediately relax.

"Home sweet home" He murmured then went to his bedroom to change quickly.

Once comfortable, he went to the kitchen and, after a glance to the postcard from Rome pinned to the fridge by a Coliseum-shaped magnet, he hugged the woman busy chopping vegetables, burying his nose in her hair and placing both his hands on her slightly rounded belly.

The playful barking of a dog preceded its own version of a hug.

"Levi, out! You know you can't stay in the kitchen while I'm cooking!" Sue protested while turning in her husband's embrace.

"Honey, I'm back!" Jack said before kissing her.

**_THE END_**


End file.
